


A Quest for Spades

by Orestiad



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cardverse, Cardverse AU, M/M, Mages, Magic, Quest for Camelot - Freeform, Quest for Camelot AU, Slow Burn, Some Swearing, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 18:31:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 64,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6295129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orestiad/pseuds/Orestiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The King of Spades has been murdered, and it seems Clubs plans to invade the country. </p><p>As next in line, Alfred is forced to flee. Hoping to find a way to save his country, he finds himself having to team up with a powerful mage in the middle of a forgotten forest.</p><p>(Cardverse/Quest for Camelot AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love cliché titles, fight me.
> 
> So yeah! Quest for Camelot AU. Just to be clear right from the bat - there is no Excalibur, no two-headed dragon, no blind hermit, and eventually the plotline will differ.  
> I'm just using the setting and general idea. I watched too much Hetalia vid's with the movie's music, I think. 
> 
> ALSO: First I published this story with the next chapter right underneath the prologue, so I deleted that and republished it this way.. I want to add some tweaks. So sorry, lol. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia and English is not my first language.

Once upon a time, there was a great kingdom.

Its borders stretched over the entire planet, as far as the eye could see. No one knew where they began or where they ended. People said the sun never set in this kingdom. It would be night north of the kingdom, but the day would begin south of it.

The kingdom was beautiful, and it was called Suits.

Because of its sheer size, all the seasons took place at the same time in the kingdom. Of course this was because the country stretched so far, that winter would begin opposite of where summer had begun.

In the north, it was almost always cold. The days were short, even in summers. The landscape was mostly empty, but the rocky surface and the frozen glaciers had their charm. The people were efficient despite the cold, dressed in warm furs and always working hard. Farming was difficult in this area, but the mining was grand and thus trade flowed effortlessly with other areas.

In the south, it was always warm. The golden sun stretched over green meadows and sparkling streams of water.  The people were the image of elegance and class, and the land was known for throwing extravagant parties. Cuisine was also very popular in this area, the climate proving helpful in harvests, as even the winters were very mild.

In the western part there was land filled with rain and sun, rainbows not a rare sight in these areas. Flowers, especially roses, bloomed magnificently there, and despite the common downpour the people were kindred. Winters were usually mild, and summers were soft. But rosy looks could fool foreigners, because this part of the country was known for its magical prowess.

That left only the eastern area of the country. It was much like its western counterpart, but with a lot of mountains. The area was known for housing the non-magical military of Suits. The people were known to be hardworking and serious, and this part of the country was often the centre of trade.  Winters tended to be harsher but not as harsh as in the north.

In the middle of that entire, large kingdom was an enormous forest. In the midst of this forest stood a large palace, housing a mighty King with his lovely Queen.

It was said the King was a joyful man, and that he enjoyed music and good food. He was a strong warrior, often visiting his magical and non-magical military, leading them to victories from those who would cause trouble.

The Queen was more down to earth and calm, opting to be more busy with the people instead. It was often said the Queen was a descendant of the lovely, enchanted creatures from the forest surrounding her palace, and her magical abilities were praised in many songs and tales.

Underneath them served their faithful Jack, a man or woman with an affinity for handling the more delicate and dangerous topics that came with ruling a land. He was a Jack of all trades, master of none but still infinitely better than a master of one. 

They were loved by all their subjects, human and magical alike.

It was said the rulers had been immortal, ruling their lands for decades and decades. They maintained their youthful power and beauty. Only their subjects would succumb to aging and diseases.

But with the years, the technical advancement and the improved literacy, came corruption and rebellion.

Why should three people have so much power? Why should they be privileged and why should they be safe of the dangers of time and disease?

People started to whisper and rebel. No man or woman should hold so much power over so much land and people. More groups and groups formed, intend on overthrowing the once peaceful ruling of Suits.

The King and queen were as beautiful and just as they were harsh and unforgiving, unfortunately. They struck down the rebellious, and for half a century a tense silence spread over the country. 

People continued to whisper, silently rebelling. They were right – the King and Queen had gone mad with power. Their rulers had killed innocent and less-innocent subjects to squander the rebellions from so many years ago. 

And so began the downfall of the King and Queen of Suits.

It was easy to overthrow the non-magical military. They resided only in the eastern parts of the countries, and first trade had cut off from that area. In their desperation, hungry and poor townsfolk rebelled against the authority. The men in the military abandoned their posts or were killed.

The King and Queen were shielded from the horrors that took place in their kingdom, by the enchanted forest around them. They called their magical army to the forest to protect them, and stopped showing themselves. The people formed armies of their own.

The destruction of the forest and its inhabitants began as people fought the only army left. People thought that it should only be humans who should be able to wield magic. Everything else was not natural. Everything else was loyal to Suits, so everything else had to be eliminated. The forest burned, shrieks coming from the trees as its creatures were decimated.

The King and Queen struggled, horrified by what their Kingdom had become. People passed along rumours – there had been plans that the Queen would curse the land. 

To retaliate, they constructed their own curse. They rounded up their most powerful magicians, whom they called Jokers. The Jokers put a curse upon the forest and the palace. The three Royals, and many of their servants and the magical creatures in the forest, died from mysterious illnesses.

But Jokers loved to joke, and the curse did not limit itself to the forest. It spread across the country, many more people, innocent or not, dying in the process.

Life without a King or Queen was different for the common folk. Granted there were no taxes to be paid, no rules to abide by. Yet people feared; there was a lot of crime and no one to protect the people from poverty and famine.

Had they been wrong?

Those not affected by the mysterious illnesses caused by the long-gone Jokers, easily seized power where they could. More people were killed, massacred. More rebellions started – slow, small at first. With lack of authority they grew larger, incontrollable.

After not even a century of war, disease and famine, people swallowed their pride. They had been wrong. They needed ruling, they needed protection and guidance. It was not hard to decide who would lead them.

Before, there had been governors, working under the rule of the King and Queen and keeping order in the North, South, West and East.

These governors were chosen by forces of nature, magic some said. Strange marks, always one of four symbols, would etch into their skin once they passed their twelfth years. These people were invulnerable for most diseases, people knew, but they were not immortal either.

They still agreed upon one thing - no man should hold so much power over so much land. The land was split into four separate kingdoms.

These would-be governors were from thereon elected as the new Kings, Queens and Jacks of the kingdoms. Their marks were a sign from a higher place, and these men and women proved strong and powerful rulers.

The cold northern land was named Clubs. The warm, southern land Diamonds. The rainy, western part was dubbed Spades, and that left only the eastern Hearts.

Of course, the arrival of the new royalty did not mean the end of the wars. People, royalty or common, are greedy by nature. More often than not kingdoms warred amongst themselves in hopes of grabbing more power, of having more control.

By the time the old Kingdom of Suits was but a memory, a story to tell the children at night, a fragile peace had finally arrived. The royalty and their people were exhausted from the fighting and the constant bloodshed.

Trade routes were established, and soon all kingdoms flourished, despite their uneasy political relationships. Especially Spades and Clubs seemed to have it out for each other, their political connections kept to a minimum as their norms and values always seemed to be in conflict with each other.

People finally had the time to mourn what had passed. They mourned the death of Suits, the death of so many innocents, and they mourned the loss of so many magical, innocent creatures. The once beautiful forest that housed the once great palace, had turned dark and cold, deadly.

Magic was still common of course. Most families had one child with an affinity for magic. But magic was weakened. People could influence crops by rituals, people could play with fire without getting burned. There were people who prophesized, people who could steal other people’s pain.

But the real magic – the magic that resided in the Queen of Suits, the magic that resided in their strongest mages and the magic that was housed in the forest – that magic was rare.

Magic made place for more technical advancements. Spades in particular had a capable, large army, one that prospered with the latest technical advancements – it was second only to the army of Hearts. They deemed that necessary, because of their strained relations with Clubs.

In fact, only ten years ago, a mercenary from Clubs had infiltrated the royal circle of knights in the Kingdom of Spades. During a ceremony, one that had meant to be peaceful, a man had drawn his weapon and had attacked the King of Spades.

One would argue that was an ill plan, a bad decision, seeing as how the King was surrounded by his most trusted knights. Thus it was not the King who died that night, but his Ace. 

Clubs denied having anything to do with the mercenary, and Spades saw no reason to go to war for an act that was so badly planned and executed. The man was to be hanged. By some strange form of coincidence, a fire broke out the night before the execution would take place. The man escaped (perhaps it was magic).

The escaping of the mercenary of Clubs and the rumours of magic were the only incentive the King and Queen needed to keep the identity of the new prince a secret.

Three years after the incident had taken place, a boy in the outskirts of the country had turned twelve. A strange mark had blossomed on his chest, and his mother had rushed him over to the capitol, to the castle. His role was confirmed easily – the boy was the prince, the next King of Spades. 

He was to remain unidentified until he would have to take his place as the King. They sent a governess with him back home, one who would teach him royal ways and etiquette, but he was not to stand out in case the countries relationships with Clubs would worsen.

This boy was called Alfred F. Jones, and the story takes place ten years after his father was killed by a Clubs mercenary.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might be a tough read - more information and history and giggles. Just to get the story rolling. Next chapter I will introduce our favourite Brit, so it'll go faster from there, promise!

Far from the capitol, a week’s travel or so, lay the outskirts of the kingdom of Spades. These lands were dedicated to farming mostly, a few villages connecting the farmers with the rest of the country.

Contrary to popular belief, life as a farmer was not slow or boring. People found joy in their job, whatever it was. It was custom for children to follow in their parents’ footsteps, but if they desired to move and pursue other careers, that was approved of as well.

The climate in Spades ensured that no farmer ever had to fear for their source of income. Their crops usually flourished, and if they didn’t, they would still be good enough to catch some coin. Thus, farmers never had to stress or worry, and life was good.

But Alfred Jones had been told he was to be King one day, and he found the setting around him incredibly boring ever since.

The adolescent leaned heavily on his shovel, wishfully gazing at the lands in front of him. It was a sunny day, as it was only the end of summer. They had been blessed with a soft summer, but soon autumn would begin.

Having to help prepare the crops and lands for the next season wasn’t very exciting. Not when you could daydream about life at court.

Alfred sighed – he had lived on this farm with his family all his life now, all nineteen years of it. If he were a normal boy, perhaps he would have already been married to some sweet lass in the village, but it was impossible now.

“Engaging in any physical relation with the public is strictly forbidden.” Alfred murmured to himself, repeating what he had been taught.

And he had been taught _a lot._ Most things were utterly ridiculous, Alfred thought. For example, all the different kinds of utensils he was required to use. Here at home, he just had one knife, one fork and one spoon, and that was _more_ than enough.

He was even taught explicitly on something as basic as handshakes. If he were to accept a handshake when he was King (which was not-done on it’s down, because his subjects should bow, but nevertheless), he had to use his right hand. his grip had to be firm but not too firm, lest he crush their fingers. Do not offer a limp hand either.

Which seemed pretty normal to Alfred, right? He had done so from the start, because his father taught him such. But when his governess was teaching him about basic things, even breathing suddenly seemed like quite the difficult test. He could _never_ do anything right in that woman’s eyes.

When he was crowned, he’d probably change some things. Mostly the etiquette about eating and talking, he decided. Because what was with that stuck-up way royals talked and acted, anyway? Alfred knew he had a bit of a farmer’s slur every now and then, and surely that would be helped by getting used to living in court. But to use words as preposterous and dreadful? No thank you.

And who the heck needs _three_ spoons?!

He turned from the landscapes and back to the pigs in the pen, scuffling about. Alfred scoffed and continued shovelling mud inside of the pen, listening to the animals’ happy oinks.

“You guys like that, huh?” Alfred said with a grin. Despite court being more exciting, he supposed he was happy here too. The animals often made for excellent conversation partners, since he was practically isolated ever since he had heard about his future.

Precautions or something. Alfred thought they were just being buzzkills.

It was better now, though. His governess went back to the palace when he turned eighteen, deeming him a lost cause and saying she tried to teach him everything he could. To be completely honest, the Jack had visited them then too, and he wasn’t disappointed by Alfred’s progress.

The nasty woman was probably just exaggerating. She always seemed to have it out for him and his family too, often meddling with how his mother wanted to raise her son. Which was a _big_ mistake, because nobody messed with his mother. There was rarely a night where the two women didn’t clash.

“At least she’s gone now.” Alfred chatted to the pigs. “Though a King must never complain.” He continued, imitating the woman’s voice. “And he should never express an opinion on any subject whatsoever.”

One of the pigs looked at him briefly before continuing whatever he was doing.

“I know, right! What a load of bull. People might as well express their opinions. ‘I’ll take a rain-check on that, Your Majesty, sir!’ That would just make me annoyed. And what is with that ‘Talk to every woman as if you loved her, and to every man as if he loved you’ thing?! Perfect social tact my ass, it just sounds creepy.”

“Are you talking to the pigs again?”

Alfred grinned cheekily as he turned around, facing his brother.

Matthew was his twin (Alfred hated to admit he was younger by four minutes), and they differed only in a few aspects. For example, Alfred’s hair was shorter, and Matthew’s eyes were purplish blue instead of sky blue.

“They’re exceptionally good at holding a conversation, y’know.”

“Of course they are. I prefer the chickens myself.” Matthew rolled his eyes and snorted as Alfred stuck out his tongue immaturely. “But get on with it, we can daydream when we’re done with our chores.”

“When I’m crowned, I’m never going to do chores again. And if you ask nicely I’ll send workers over here for free too, so you don’t have to either.”

“You’re going to be sorely disappointed, your Highness.”

Alfred wasn’t going to think about that for now. He knew he had to lead the military, had to oversee his Kingdom and its people and their needs. But for now, his imagination existed of celebrations and free time. He might miss the everlasting stench of manure of the farm, keyword being _might._

He pushed himself off the pen as Matthew waved for him to come along, both boys heading to the stables. The horses were happily grazing in a meadow, which made it easier to clean the stables out. Alfred winked when one of the maids crossed the square in front of the house and stables, grinning when she giggled and ran off quickly.

Despite being farmers, they were not bad off at all. This didn’t have anything to do with Alfred’s predicament per se, though Alfred could imagine his family having more money since his future was decided.

But no, his father had been the King’s Ace. Or, more commonly known, his most trusted knight. Thinking about his father always made Alfred a little sad.

Alfred remembers his passing as if it were yesterday, still.

His father had gone to the capitol, and as usual Alfred, Matthew and their mother travelled with him until the village, his father regaling to them the wildest tales. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so when a week later knights appeared on their lands, Alfred and Matthew had run over enthusiastically. 

But no one answered their calls, and as they ran back to the house they saw their mother collapse to the floor in tears. It took the boys a while to understand what happened, though they weren’t told of the actual cause until after Alfred had been marked.

One day, Alfred told himself, he would seek out this escaped fugitive and bring justice upon him. His father deserved better than to be mindlessly killed by an unrecognized Clubs mercenary.

His father had indeed been a very kind man. Although he had often been away for duty, his position next to his King taking most of his time, he made sure to see his family regularly.

And even though it was clear from early on, that one of his beloved boys was blessed with magic, he didn't hesitate to offer them equal education and training. It was common for people with magic to occupy careers such as herbalists and healers, but his father knew Matthew deserved the same dream as Alfred – which was to become a knight.

So when they turned twelve, they had every intention to apprentice themselves to a knight in the village, only to have the plan forgotten when Alfred’s mark appeared. Matthew was of course allowed to apprentice himself still, but had instead opted to stay with his brother. Alfred felt guilty, but he was glad too – he would’ve gone absolutely mad without his twin, all these years.

Alfred watched Matthew disappear into a shed to grab the supplies they needed, idly rubbing at the space where his mark rested, covered by his shirt.

It often itched, or burned. It was a constant reminder of his place and his future, black ink seemingly having come from nowhere etching into his skin in elegant and delicate lines.

Whilst it often excited Alfred, it often saddened him too. One day he was going to leave his home for good, and he would miss his family terribly. He remembered the forlorn look on his mother’s face when he had, confused and scared, shown her the strange thing forming on his chest. That was already seven years ago, now.

He had been rushed over to the castle along with his family that same day, meeting some of the scariest people he had ever seen. It had all been terribly intimidating.

Of course, the King and Queen were kind people, especially to the family of their new heir. They recognized the family of their late Ace, and the King seemed immediately taken with the boy, proudly smiling down at him.

He yelped as he was nearly slapped in the face with a rake.

“What is it with you, Al? Snap out of it already.”

“Oh, shut up.” Alfred laughed, heading towards the stable next to Matthew’s.

They both had their own horses, gifts from their father when they were younger. The other stables were permanently empty – his father’s horse died a few years ago, the horse of his mother following shortly after.

“I was just reminiscing.”

“About what?”

“The palace.”

After his initial introduction to the royal couple, he had been to the castle one time, when he was fifteen. Under the guise of being apprentices to a knight, he and his brother had the opportunity to learn more about the other kingdoms as their royals had been invited to the celebration.

“Awful place.” Matthew said, grunting as he put more effort in. “I remember the naked people drawn on the ceiling of the ballroom. _Art_ , they called it.”

“I guess when the old man is bored during audiences, all he has to do is look up.”

They both laughed about the memory – they had both stared in horror, never having seen a naked person before, and suddenly there was a ceiling full of them! He remembered the Jack slapping both of them on their heads as they stared for a little _too_ long.

“I’m a bit jealous of you,” Matthew started afterwards, offering a sheepish smile. “You’re going to travel so much, I can only imagine what Diamonds looks like.”

“Dude, I’ll totally bring you along. And you can go in my place to Clubs if you want. Slap some make-up on you and cut your hair, nobody will tell the difference!”

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Though both growed up on the farms and performed heavy chores, Alfred was considerably broader and stronger-looking. As the prince, he had of course trained more with combat such as sword-fighting, and Matthew had always been stealthier than him, with his lithe body.

“Clubs will probably be pretty, the land can’t help it that its King is a royal pervert.”

“I heard his Queen was having an affair with their Jack though. Can’t say I blame her, what with having a King thirty years her senior. It’s like snogging your grandpa.”

“Alfred!”

“What, it’s true!”

Alfred _loved_ to gossip about royals. Now that his governess was gone, he wasn’t kept as up to date as he used to be. He knew the King of Hearts had special relations with his Jack too, and that the King and Queen of Diamonds rarely saw each other.

And the gossip coming from his governess was an easy cover for his own curiosity – no new Queen of Spades had been found as of yet. Whilst the people in Spades whispered about the Prince being found, the Queen’s mark hadn’t been seen yet.

No Jack of Spades was found either, but the man was only fifteen years Alfred’s senior, and would most likely served under Alfred for a long time to come.

Alfred often wondered about who could be the new Queen of Spades. _His Queen._ The current Queen would resign along with the current King, as was customary.

But with the way the search was going, Alfred was probably going to have to be King alone for a while. That was not uncommon either, especially not since he had a trained Jack serving him. His Queen was either simply not born yet (which was unlikely), or was exceptionally good at hiding.

Which was weird – why would you not want to be the next monarch? It was an honourable job. 

Alfred sighed dreamily. He hoped she or he would be beautiful and kind. He blamed all the fairy tales his mother told him. He was under no illusion – none of the royal couples in the four kingdoms shared any love for each other.

Marriage between a King and Queen was like an arranged one after all. Two people bearing marks would be put together, whether they like each other or not. It wasn’t expected of them to love each other. The current King and Queen of Spades shared more of a sibling kind of relationship, too.

But even as he tried to squander it down, Alfred was a romantic at heart. He hoped that they could at least like each other. Becoming friends would be a must if they were to spend their lives together. Learning to coexist with each other shouldn’t be difficult – the current monarchs managed it, as did the monarchs of Hearts. Alfred wasn’t really sure about the others.

“Well, I am kind of jealous of you. You get to marry the love of your life and get to father lots of babies. Which, I will of course be the best uncle ever to. Man, imagine having the King as your uncle. How awesome is that!”

He _could_ get children if he wanted to, actually, but only with his Queen. They would not be princes or princesses either, and were given no special treatment. Though he imagined getting children would be kind of hard if he had a male Queen, and really, he didn’t think he was going to be a good father anyway.

“Right,” Matthew deadpanned. “First I’ll have to find someone who wants someone cursed with magic for a husband.”

“Technicalities. And it’s not a curse, stop saying that. You’re more than capable of taking care of a family without magic, and that’s what matters.”

“Whatever you say, Al.”

They shut up from there on, and were fairly quickly done with cleaning out the stables. They were done just in time for a maid to come and fetch them, the girl giggling as she smiled a little too long at Alfred.

It wasn’t as if Alfred was doing it on purpose – but the maids all seemed to have it out for him. They, and the rest of their small staff, were sworn to secrecy about his status. As a growing teenager, Alfred had relished in all the attention and often went out of his way to impress everyone. That behaviour probably stuck in the memories of the female, younger staff. Alfred didn’t mind, it was rather flattering, and the annoyed look on his brother’s face was priceless.

Dutifully cleaning their muddy boots on the porch (all the while shoving each other good naturedly), the twins entered the house.

It was a normally sized house, mostly consisting of wooden structure. If entered, you immediately enter the living room. In the middle of the room, on the far back wall, proudly hung the shield of Alfred’s late father.

They were instantly greeted by a short, plump woman. Their mother was the perfect image of a nurturing woman, if you asked Alfred. Her skin was tanned slightly (as were her sons) from working outside, and her chocolate brown hair was greying a little.

“Boys!” She exclaimed happily. “I have wonderful news. You two know which month it is, right?”

“Next week marks the date of father’s passing.” Matthew said rather sarcastically. Their mother gasped for a moment, before shaking her head quickly.

“Oh, I didn’t realize how that sounded, apologies. It _has_ been ten years already, hasn’t it?” Her eyes slid over to the shield hanging on the wall, a sad look on her face. “You two have grown so much.”

Alfred sensed she was about to get emotional, and if there was one thing that was unpleasant, it was their mother being emotional.

“So! What’s the good news, ma?”

“Right!” She snapped out of it, smiling brightly once more. “The King is holding a celebration in two weeks. We have been invited as guests of honour!”

Matthew laughed. “Of course we are, Alfred is the prince.”

“Does that mean…” Alfred trailed off, a confused look on his face. That could mean that they were planning to prepare him for his introduction to the public.

“No need to pack just yet, my boy.” His mother said soothingly. “But you two haven’t had suits tailored to you since you were fifteen, and I doubt those still fit. The seamstress will arrive in two days.”

Alfred and Matthew groaned simultaneously. They would much rather do a thousand chores than stand around and be used as a doll.

“None of that, now. I expect you two to be on your best behaviour. Besides, Miss Laura is a lovely woman.”

Despite hating the tailoring, Alfred and Matthew like the woman just fine. She was originally from Diamonds and spoke with a lilting accent. When they were young she indulged them with teaching them some words in the Diamonds official language and she had a lot of patience.

“Now, Matthew, I want you to help with dinner. Alfred, come with me.”

Matthew dutifully trotted over to the kitchens to help their cook with dinner, whilst Alfred followed their mother outside. They headed over to the meadow, where Tony, Alfred’s horse, gleefully hopped over to them.

Rolling his eyes, Alfred retrieved some snacks for him out of his pocket, avoiding having his hand bitten only by a hair. He watched his mother pat the horse gently.

“ _If_ us being invited means what I think it means,” His mother started, motioning for Alfred to lead Tony back to the stables with her. “I just want you to know you don't have to worry.”

“Worry?” Alfred asked. He grabbed the reins on the fence and easily put them on his horse, before tugging him out of the meadow and following the woman back to the stables.

“Well, I doubt you will be introduced and crowned the same day. We have all been invited to stay a few days too. I have written to the Jack for more clarification, so we will know soon.”

“Right.”

“Do try to sound a little more excited!” Alfred laughed sheepishly, ignoring Tony who was trying to nibble through his pockets for more treats as they walked.

“I’m sorry, ma. I am excited, of course. Also a little scared. And anxious. Definitely excited though.”

Oh man, one hour ago he was daydreaming about life in court and being crowned, and right now he was ready to just take all of that back. What if he was going to disappoint everyone?

He had to get it together – it might just be a celebration, nothing else. He wasn’t going to get worked up for nothing.

They reached the stables, and his mother turned around with a sweet smile.

“Don’t worry, Alfred. You’re a very good person, kind and funny. People will love you, whether you are being introduced or not.”

“Somehow when your ma tells you this stuff, it’s less believable, but thanks.” Alfred responded dryly, smiling as his mother laughed.

“We’ll be there with you.” She reminded him warmly. “Now, go do your rounds. Dinner will be done in an hour I’d say, so no loitering.”

Alfred rolled his eyes at her with a warm grin of himself, saddling the horse up as she left. Tightening the straps and petting Tony on the back for being calm and obedient, he hoisted himself up the saddle. Horse-riding was one of his more favourite activities, but he had done it less lately. Poor boy probably needed more exercise.

It probably wasn’t custom or the ‘right thing to do’, but he was totally going to take Tony with him. He’d gift his mother a new horse to plough the lands, of course, but Tony was _his_ horse and Alfred would feel terrible leaving him behind. He remembered how heart-broken his father’s horse had been, nearly starving himself by refusing to eat until Matthew had managed to win him over.

Besides, once he was King, who was going to deny him bringing his own horse? No one, he figured.

Well, no. Alfred made a face. Plenty of people could deny him, if etiquette and politics had any say in it. Still, he’d stand his ground. He was stubborn.

Within a few minutes he was trotting across the dirt path that would take him around their small amount of land. Thanks to the climate of Spades, they never had to worry about drought or floods, which was a gift when you were a farmer. He smiled at the lands they would soon need to ready for winter.

Tony walked comfortably over the paths connecting each field with each other, Alfred whistling some tune and waving enthusiastically to the few farmers that worked for them still on the fields. Knowing they were anxious to call it a day too, kept Alfred from making chitchat with them however.

He was done fairly quickly for this reason (he usually loitered with the people, as his mother said), and knowing he had some extra time left he steered Tony down a slightly less used path.

As was his luck, it started to drizzle slightly. Alfred frowned, knowing a drizzle never stayed a drizzle in Spades, but that meant he was going to be soaking wet anyway even if he turned around now. Recent developments, news about the celebration, made him long for a moment of privacy.

The last bit of his journey could be slippery because of the rain, so he dismounted Tony and set him to the side of the road. He slid down the hill easily, skidding to a stop in front of a tomb of some sorts.  

As customary with the graves of knights, his father had been buried in some kind of underground tomb on their family grounds. On top of the horizontal marble was a Spades mark, engraved with thick lines. Alfred ran his fingers over the ‘here lies’ text as he sat down, hoping his mother wasn’t going to yell at him for his dirty trousers later.

“Long time no speak, dad.”

Yes, he was nineteen, and he was practically an adult. He talked to animals because he didn’t really have any friends, and he sometimes talked to the grave of his father. No big deal, okay?

The drizzle worsened a little, and Alfred glared up at the sky before sighing.

“I’m going to make this short. You know how ma is.” Comfortably Alfred began regaling the latest news about him and the family.

He talked of the sudden upcoming celebration, and his concerns over being introduced and crowned soon. Alfred always wished the man was alive during those moments – as a dear friend of the King, his father could have helped and advised him. The man was always so proud of his sons and their dreams to be knights, and now Alfred was going to be King… Alfred was sure the man would be elated.

In the back of his mind he was mindful of how long he took, and as the rain worsened, he regaled the tale of how Matthew had managed to flood the well by a ritual gone wrong. It had been hilarious, and Alfred snickered at the memory.

“I’m kind of amazed by Mattie sometimes. To just be able to control something like that, purely with your mind… I’m kinda jealous, though I know he wishes he were normal like me. Well, not me, perhaps. Perhaps there will be someone at court that can show him magic isn’t bad.”

That wasn’t such a bad idea! Perhaps he could find someone to train Matthew a little, someone who would show Matthew that magic was awesome and could be used heroically.

He was ripped from his thoughts as a strange, thumping noise sounded in the distance. Alfred silenced and squinted around him, wondering what animal could make a noise like that.

He was startled however, when suddenly the horn of the village nearby his position starting blaring in response. He didn’t recognize the horn either.

The kingdom often communicated like this – horns would be used to signal the knights, or to announce a celebration. There was a horn that would announce a storm, warning the people to keep indoors. Alfred had heard the coronation bells were light and musical, not like this ominous thumping noise.

That meant-

“Dead?” Alfred muttered, confusion clouding his thoughts. That meant this horn announced the death of one of the monarchs.

But that wasn’t possible! Alfred would have known if either of the rulers were sick. He would’ve heard about it, he would’ve been picked up as soon as they had gotten ill in order to prepare him for his role.

Though, it was not uncommon for people to die suddenly. An allergy, a slip in the bathtub, a fall down the stairs. The monarchs were immune to lesser diseases, but they were still people. A broken neck was a broken neck.

Alfred stumbled to his feet, quickly muttering his farewell to his father and scrambling back towards the hill. He couldn’t help but panic a little – he had to get home to find out what this meant.

Forgetting that the rain made the hill slippery, Alfred tried to race up it. His feet lost their grip on the ground and he tumbled down the hill rather quickly.

Alfred cursed – he landed face first in the mud and having to spit it out. He sat up quickly, realizing he was drenched in dirt (his mother was going to _kill_ him). For now he just felt sorry for himself, his elbows aching a little as they scraped across the ground.

Landing on his face was always fun too, and now was no exception. He scrunched his nose and felt around wildly for his glasses. He felt the tell-tale metal against his skin and quickly put them back on, but they were dirty – and was that glass broken?

_Damn it._

He couldn’t really clean them either, so instead he pocketed them. The fall hadn’t even been that dramatic, what a mess.

The horns started to drum in his ears, and he climbed up the hill with more care. He’d have to wash Tony’s saddle later, but for now he just wanted to get home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used a quote when Alfred was complaining about having to speak with tact and all...
> 
> "Talk to every woman as if you loved her, and to every man as if he loved you and... you will have the reputation of possessing the most perfect social tact." - Oscar Wilde


	3. Chapter 2

It felt like an eternity had passed once Alfred finally sighted the stables and his house. The rain still pattered down on him tauntingly, but it did nothing to wash the mud away from his clothes or hair.

He idly noticed everyone’s absence on the fields, and was happy everyone at least had the common sense to hide from the rain. He would hate to have to stop just so that he could usher some overworked farmers inside.

There was noise coming from around the house and he supposed people were gathering to discuss what the horns would mean for them in the future. Outside of the stables, Alfred quickly dismounted.

He led Tony towards the doors, when the horse suddenly neighed loudly in distress, side-stepping away from Alfred.

Alfred groaned – now was not the time for the horse to get spooked by a little rain storm. “Calm down, boy!” He raised his hands to pet and soothe the horse, pulling him back gently and avoiding any heavy hoofs on his feet.

He froze momentarily as he heard heavy boots approaching behind him. Rolling his eyes, he turned around to complain that Matthew shouldn’t sneak up on him, especially now that Tony was scared, when he was instead met with two strange men.

They were taller than him too, which was quite a feat. He was about to inquire who the men were and why they were here (perhaps they were from the palace), when he was roughly grabbed by his arms and pulled away from the horse.

Alfred shouted in alarm, trying to wriggle his arms free.

“Let me go! Who the hell are you?!”

If they _were_ from the palace, they would know better than to manhandle him like that. Hell, Alfred was pretty sure every guard and knight and servant from the palace he had ever met, had been traumatized by not being able to sink down to one knee lest they raise suspicion.

So, being fairly sure they weren’t people from court, Alfred trashed around. He managed to punch one man in the nose rather harshly, feeling a _‘crunch_ ’ underneath his knuckles. He managed to elbow the other man in the side, and he was free for one glorious moment.

They were angrily talking in a foreign language, and that made Alfred falter. It was all the time they needed to push him to his knees and shackle his hands, binding them together. Alfred cursed and kicked out as they dragged him back in a sitting position, but they kept him at arm’s length.

Realizing he was being pushed towards the house whether than away from it (so it wasn’t a kidnapping), he decided to calm down for now. He had no idea what was going on, after all.

The moment they rounded the corner to the plaza in front of the house however, he had an inkling of an idea.

There were more men similar to the ones pushing him, and he was unceremoniously shoved towards the rest of the servants. They were huddled together, watching in fear, and he frowned as they immediately circled him, hiding him from view.

He was elbowed softly and realized Matthew was standing next to him, a worried expression on his face.

Apparently no one knew exactly what was going on either, but everyone remained quiet, waiting for something. Alfred was about to demand what was going on, when he the door opened. Out came his mother, followed by a man with the whitest hair he had ever seen.

His attire was strange – he was donned with black robes that concealed most of his body, except for his shockingly white hair. His eyes glowed red, even in the dark of the rain and evening, and the fuzzy sight that were his naked eyes, Alfred could see that.

Seeing the strange, red aura the man omitted, he realized he was a mage.

“Now that the King is dead-“ the man was interrupted as the servants broke out into chatter – so it was true! Alfred blinked owlishly. He had thought that was the case, but to hear it so plainly, it made him feel anxious.

Someone shouted in that foreign language again, his voice murderous, and everyone fell silent within a second.

“Thank you.” The white-haired man sneered. “So now that we murdered the King, it’s time for us to do so to the new one!”

Alfred’s blood ran cold. _Murdered?!_ He felt as if breath wasn’t coming as easily to him as usual, and looked around wildly. Everyone stared in horror at the man, though his brother was watching him carefully. He felt a hand touch his elbow and it oddly calmed him down a little.  

The white-haired man was addressed by someone, and scowled. “All right, we can’t kill him. Yet.”

“There is no King here.” He heard his mother say, and he was in awe of her courage. Alfred felt as if he were nailed to the ground. They were here for him, and though he wasn’t going to be murdered in cold blood… _yet._

“Hush, woman. Now, which one of you is Alfred Jones?”

_They knew._

“You stay here.” He heard Matthew whisper, and as Alfred whirled around to ask why, he noticed Matthew had suddenly darted from the group. Shouts were heard as he was immediately captured by the other men, whom dragged him up towards the white-haired man.

“Ah, there he is. Blonde hair, spectacles. You fit the description I guess.”

Alfred glared and wanted to scream. Once he had overheard Matthew and his mother talking – if Alfred was ever in any case of danger, Matthew would pretend to be him. He had protested loudly and they had never spoken about it anymore, not to Alfred at least.

And he probably didn’t fit the description now – his spectacles in his pocket and his hair caked with dirt. He probably passed for a stable boy.

“Yes, all right.” He heard Matthew speak, voice wavering slightly. “What do you want?”

Matthew glared over the man’s shoulder in his direction. Alfred hated him for it. He knew what he had to do, and it wasn’t fighting the others. He wouldn’t win, there was no weapon in his direct area, and if the other man was truly a mage… well, he would be fucked.

He had to flee. The word ‘ _yet_ ’ assured him of Matthew’s safety (for now), but if the man were to inspect Matthew for the mark than he would see that he was in fact not Alfred Jones. It would be too much to hope for that the man would believe Alfred Jones was simply not the King. He couldn’t risk that.

If the King was dead, he had to get to the palace, _stat._

But they were under attack, weren’t they? He heard the horns, other horns calling for knights and armies. Was the palace even safe?

He didn’t have more time to think. Matthew offered another fierce glare, and Alfred shuffled backwards out of the group. People easily circled around him, as if nothing was changing. It was easy too.

Because of Matthew’s half-hearted escape attempt, all the guards were now focused on the white-haired man and his brother. Alfred realized he had left Tony outside of the stables, still in saddle. He just hoped the poor boy hadn’t run off.

He lowered his head as the white-haired man walked over to Matthew. He inched away slowly, and a few seconds later he heard the man’s annoyed snort.

“Wait a minute, he isn’t marked! This isn’t him, you dumbasses! Search the servants!”

 _Shit_.

Alfred broke out into a sprint, hearing the shouts of alarm as they took notice. He ran as fast as he could, hearing people coming after him. He didn’t know how long it would be until he would be hit with magic, but nothing came. He figured Matthew had distracted the mage – it was raining, and water was one of his brother’s elements after all.

Tony was where he had left him, bless him, and Alfred all but ungraciously mounted him. It was more a matter of jumping on and praying for the best, seeing as he could hardly move his hands from their binds.

He grabbed hold of the mane on Tony’s back and kicked his sides, perhaps harsher than he should be, but he didn’t care – they were after him, they were going to take him away and _kill_ him and he had to leave for the sake of the Kingdom.

Tony tore out of the area, and all Alfred could think was about how he felt like a coward as he caught a glimpse of Matthew unconscious on the ground, their mother kneeling down next to him. But he couldn’t stay, and perhaps they would leave his family alone if he ran.

So he fled over the dirt paths leading away from the farms. Tony was in a frenzy as he sensed Alfred’s panic, their chasers shouting at them not doing much to help to calm either’s nerves. Alfred wanted to vomit – he was jostled about violently because he wasn’t able to hold himself properly, and he leant down to grab as much mane as he could.

The rain made it hard to see, more so now that Alfred wasn’t wearing his glasses. It took him a moment to realize they were heading towards the village, but that would be a bad idea. Not only would he endanger the people living there, but perhaps more of these enemies would reside there.

Alfred had no idea about the safety of the palace or the villages, only that the armies were being called. So the village was off.  The best idea would be towards the lake, to try and shake them off there, and he turned Tony quickly.

The abrupt turn made Tony slip lightly and Alfred blessed every God that they didn’t fall down. His horse instead regained footing and sprinted down the other road, the foreign guards hot on their heels. Chancing a look over his shoulders, Alfred imprinted their looks in his memory.

_That looked like Clubs armour._

He flinched as he noticed them drawing arrows whilst riding – _was that one on fucking fire, what the hell, it was raining?!_

Despite the rain, which Alfred would have thought would douse the fire on the arrow quickly, the arrow was fired and flew past Alfred. Alfred snorted, they missed whilst they were so bloody close. Hearing Tony’s terrified neigh however, he realized they hadn’t missed.

In front of them was a construction of wood, and he realized they had probably prepared that for any escape routes someone might take. As if doused with oil (or magic) the wood burst into flames, and Tony reared up on his hind legs.

Alfred held on for dear life, and tried to calm the horse down with soothing words , but it was to no avail. Tony was in a frenzy and abruptly took a left, storming down a beaten-down path. Alfred didn’t remember ever taking this path, but he was fine as long they could get away from their chasers.

They ended up in a clearing, the land around them empty and dead-looking, and Alfred cursed. They needed diversions. Tony didn’t react to him however, instead charging mindlessly ahead. He could hardly even see through the rain, and wondered if Tony could.

The question was answered as they abruptly came to a halt. It was so sudden, that when Tony reared up again, Alfred lost his grip and fell down.

He banged his head to the ground rather harshly and groaned. He was still aware of the danger however and sat up, just in time to watch Tony run away.

“Wait!” Alfred called, but it was hopeless. Tony was probably just too afraid. The rain fell down harshly on the ground and on him, and he noticed why Tony had suddenly been scared – in front of them, almost unnoticeable, was a dense cluster of trees.

A forest.

Alfred knew the forest, but had never entered it. Too many ghost stories and creepy bed-stories about it. In fact, he was told no one ever entered the forest anymore. Centuries ago it had been enchanted and lovely, but war had marred it and it was now dead and cold, according to tales.

Alfred even heard it was haunted, but Matthew had once told him it wasn’t. It was just inhabited by darker, vengeful magic, and honestly that didn’t make it any better.

He heard shouting, and as he scrambled up and looked back he noticed the men coming closer. They were well armed and still on horses, and Alfred had _nothing_. He wouldn’t stand a chance, especially since his hands were still bound.

There were only two choices – stay, and be taken and killed, or flee into the forest and perhaps be killed by whatever would wait for him in there. Perhaps the men wouldn’t even dare follow him in.

Steeling his nerves, he abruptly turned around and pushed his way through the dense trees. It weren’t so much trees as it were hedges and plants, and since there was no path he had to climb his way through.

He was faintly aware of sharp branches cutting into his arms and sides, but he didn’t care, for the voices were shouting and they seemed to get closer and closer – they followed him in, then.

He felt the metal on his hands get caught on plants here and there, but he pulled and managed to keep going, hearing the swinging noise of metal as his chasers undoubtedly cut through the foliage with ease.

Alfred felt as if he had been running for hours whilst it had probably been less than ten minutes. He chanced a look over his shoulder to judge the distance between him and the others, and it had grown smaller. He panicked and put more force in his legs, but had miscalculated where he was going.

His foot caught in a rock, and instead of falling down harshly on the ground, Alfred realized he _kept_ falling. Opening his eyes as he had automatically clenched them shut in anticipation of his fall, he realized he was heading straight for the lake.

For a moment he thought about how glad he was he knew how to swim, but he hadn’t had more time to worry or fret about his fall as he clenched his eyes shut again and harshly crashed into the water.

Making the mistake of inhaling water, the constricting of his throat made him panic. That, and he was _stuck_. He was hardly able to use his hands, and as he kicked around he found his legs getting stuck in something.

He panicked again – drowning was a very unheroic way of dying, and honestly he would probably be better off being captured if that was the case. He had no idea how deep the water was, but it seemed to pull at him as he kicked and kicked, trying to disentangle himself from whatever he was stuck in.

Suddenly he was pulled forward, dragged through the water by strange force. His knees harshly hit and scraped along ground – he realized he had gotten out of the deep and into more shallow water. Instinctively he braced his knees on the ground underneath him and surged upwards, breaking the surface.

Inhaling deeply and coughing his lung’s worth, Alfred wildly looked around him.

He was in a rather calm looking clearing, the lake he was in was situated in the middle a cluster of trees and other foliage. He looked up and saw that he had fallen down a rather scaly looking stone wall, seemingly random in the clearing.

He realized it wasn’t raining here, and as he looked up he noticed he couldn’t even see the sky. The density of the trees was enormous, and no sunlight made its way through the trees. Alfred wondered how you would be able to tell day from night in this place. Despite the lack of sun and sky, it was light in the area.

“Hey, what are you- Are you bloody serious?”

Alfred whirled around, getting more trapped in whatever was constricting his legs and almost falling face flat in the water again. Entering the lake a few feet away from him was a figure. Trying to focus and willing the haze in his sight away, he figured it had to be a man.

There was a blonde mop of hair on his head, a green cloak around his body, and a large stick (a stave, Alfred realized), but more than that Alfred couldn’t really see what with all the water running into his eyes and his bad eyesight. Alfred didn’t care what the man looked like to be honest, because he was still in danger, and he hurriedly started pulling at the fabric that kept his legs from moving freely.

As if on cue, some shouts sounded as the men who were following him also fell to the water in surprise. Alfred wouldn’t admit it later, but he squeaked in surprise, trying to get away further from where the men had landed. There were only three of them, and Alfred wondered if he had been followed by more of them or not.

They were on their feet a lot quicker than Alfred had been, being able to swim and not being constricted in anything, but seemed a little lost with the sudden presence of another man. Alfred watched as the unknown man stared at his chasers, seemingly as confused as they were.

He heard the men mumble to each other in that strange language, but Alfred could figure out what they meant by their body language. They probably deemed Alfred safe to catch later, and Alfred had to agree. His hands were still bounds in metal shackles, and his legs were tangled in _something_ , so he was probably not going to run anywhere real quick.

So instead of going after him, they released some battle cries and charged straight for the other figure. Alfred shouted in alarm, warning the man. The sod didn’t even move, standing still calf-deep in the water.

Alfred heard muttering – he figured it was from the unknown man. It sounded foreign and irritated, and Alfred couldn’t for the life of him decipher what words were supposed to be formed. He felt agitated as the men got closer and closer to the unknown man, before it felt as if all the air was sucked out of the clearing as the man swung his stave.

Releasing a choked noise, Alfred watched in awe as an enormous green blast emitted from the unknown man’s stave. It blinded him and he flinched, clenching his eyes shut. A wave of hot air passed over him, pushing him back slightly. He heard a loud splash, and as he opened his eyes he realized all three men had been thrown backwards into the water.

“ _Holy shit.”_ He couldn’t help but comment. Glowing green tendrils moved through the air, sprouting from the man and his stave, curling back into him.

Completely entranced, he watched as the man made some vague gestures with the wood in his arms, still mumbling under his breath in that irritated tone of voice. In a matter of seconds the green tendrils shot out again, diving into the water beneath him.

Alfred yelped in alarm as he felt a pulling sensation on his lower body – the water was whirling around, small waves going to the centre of the lake, where the man were still spluttering. A hole formed in their midst, and green, crackling light shot out of the water to promptly drag two of the men down, garbled screams leaving their throats.

The other man cried out in horror and made to flee in the opposite direction. Apparently the man was okay with that, as no new mumbles were heard and Alfred saw no more green light. It was kind of anticlimactic, but he realized why the man made no more moves.

The moment the Clubs man hoisted himself out of the lake and moved to the trees to hide, a branch shot out of seemingly nowhere and grabbed the man, curling around his middle. The man screamed as he was then promptly snapped in two, before being tossed out of sight.

_That tree killed him, what the hell-_

Reality caught up to him and he realized he had been saying his thoughts out loud. He tore his eyes from the now deceptively still tree, whirling back to the unknown man. Fear gripped his throat – this man was a frigging _mage_ , and not a weak one either.

He saw the man walking closer to him, features getting more distinctive by the moment and Alfred realized it was as if the other’s eyes were glowing, the green emeralds matching the foliage around them.

Oh _hell_ , what if this man was one of the creatures he heard about in the bedtime stories? Murderous beings that were vengeful because of their kinds extinction, beings that wielded the darkest kind of magic and beings that ate humans for fun!

In a fit of panic, he managed to untangle his legs from whatever they were tangled in. Holding it in his hands, it felt slippery, and he threw it away before realizing it was a fishing net, trying to stumble away from the approaching man.

“Please don’t kill me, _please don’t eat me_ -“

The man abruptly stopped and turned sideways, leaning down to grab the net of the water. He wasn’t even looking at Alfred. As soon as he realized that, Alfred was kind of irked, and he watched as the man twirled the net in his fingers.

“Bloody perfect! It took me two weeks to sow this thing! I hope you’re happy.”

_What._

This murderous, cannibalistic, dark-magic creature seemed strangely human after all. Alfred swallowed, willing himself to relax as he wasn’t being murdered brutally.

“You saved my life.” Alfred then gushed, awe replacing fear once more. Magic had always been kind of a fantastic subject, after all. Alfred had spent _hours_ watching Matthew perform the simplest rituals. The glowing of the man’s eyes reminded him of the mage back at his home, the white-haired one, but the aura coming of this man was, whilst irritated, entirely different.

 “Anyone can make mistakes.”

_Woah, rude._

“Is this were Jokers live, then?” Alfred commented before thinking about what he said.

He yelped and stumbled back again as the other man whirled around and took a few steps towards him, his green cloak fluttering around him as if not even bothered by the water they were standing in.

“Please don’t kill me.” The words left his mouth involuntarily, Alfred feeling strangely small despite the man being almost a head shorter than him. His green eyes were enchanting, Alfred could tell without his glasses, but they were also _terrifying._

“Run back to your mummy before I _will_.” The man spat angrily, tapping Alfred on the shoulder with his stave. Alfred noticed it sounded strangely sarcastic. Therefore he didn’t feel intimated – not by the words at least, because he was intimidated by everything else.

And all at once, it crashed down on him too. His predicament, why he was here, the doubt he felt about whether or not his family was all right. The reality of what happened caught up to him and he blinked back tears harshly.

“I can’t.” He choked out – what if his family had been killed, because he had ran? Oh god, what if they would have been all right if Alfred would have simply let himself be taken? It was all his fault!

Apparently the other man noticed his sudden emotional turmoil.

“What, are you going to cry now? I’m not dealing with this.”

The man turned around and walked back out of the water. Alfred forced his panic down his throat again. He was _not_ going to weep as if he were some kid. He got himself in this mess, and he had to get himself out of this mess. He was the next damn King of this Kingdom and his people needed him.

Watching as the man treaded through the water, Alfred was again faced with two choices. Either he could stay here and possibly be ripped apart by a tree (which he was definitely going to freak out about sometime later), or he could follow this weird man that hadn’t yet killed him and seemed comfortable in the forest.

He supposed the tree would be less painful if the second option turned out to be lethal, but for now he stumbled after the man. Free from the constrictions on his legs, he was able to take bigger strides than the unknown man, and it wasn’t long until his bound hands found the green fabric of the man’s cloak, clutching it.

Alfred praised himself fortunate that he wasn’t sent flying backwards. His hands were slapped off rather harshly by a hit from the wooden stave, accompanied by a venomous green-eyed glare, but it occurred to Alfred the man was waiting for him to explain.

 “I can’t go back! Those men? They were after me!”

“Why should _I_ care?”

Alfred wanted to remark that he was his next King and that he should definitely care – hell, he could even order the man to help him to safety.

But he realized quickly enough that if the mage wasn’t loyal, it wouldn’t do shit, and if he were an enemy of the throne, it would be even worse. Besides, if this was truly the forest from the stories, than that meant that they were currently in no Kingdom at all.

“Because I’ll die, dude!” he said instead, hoping to play on the man’s morals. “I don’t even know where I am! And who are you? You’re a mage, right? You must be really powerful, that green light, was that your magic-”

He was stopped abruptly as the man took a step closer and slapped his hand over Alfred’s lips. Up close, Alfred could see more and more of his features, but he was getting a headache already and wanted his glasses back. He smelled like dirt, too, but not unpleasantly. More like a rainy, earthy smell.

“Stop bloody rambling! I swear, this is why I hate people.” The man sneered. “And why are you bloody squinting at me?!”

Alfred, hoping not to aggravate the apparently easily aggravated man, quickly fumbled around in his pockets. It proved harder than usual with his hands bound, but he managed to procure the spectacles out of his pocket. He felt the glass on _both_ sides was now broken however, and cursed his luck.

The glasses were snatched from his hand. “Mercy, you can’t even take care of yourself. How old are you, five?”

Alfred watched in awe as a soft, green light engulfed the man’s hand and his glasses. It was practically shoved onto his face then, rather painfully. With another gesture he felt the heavy shackles on his wrist give way, dropping down into the water beneath him.

Relishing in his new freedom, he adjusted his glasses properly. It was as if they were new, absolutely no scratch or dirt on the glass!

“I think I have done enough favours now.” The man continued, and Alfred had the chance to _really_ look at him.

His eyes were still as intensely green, and he felt as if they were as clear to him now as they were without glasses. The man’s hair was a golden shade of blonde, though very messily cut. Underneath bangs, Alfred spotted two comically large eyebrows, but somehow they fit the man.

Alfred wanted to slap himself for appreciating the lean build of the man, though he supposed that the people who radiated self-confidence were always more attractive than the shy people. And if that magical show he just put on was any indicator, Alfred could totally belief the self-confidence was just.

The man was wearing a green, heavy looking cloak, though it didn’t engulf him entirely. Alfred could see commoners clothes underneath it. His skin was very pale, as if he had never seen any sunlight. As his eyes rested on the man’s face again, he noticed bags under the emerald pools.

The man’s face was contorted in a scowl and he opened his mouth to, probably curse at him or something, but instead he faltered and swayed lightly.

“Woah, are you okay?” Alfred’s free hands shot out and grabbed the man’s arms, straightening him. As if touched by fire, the man recoiled from him and he quickly released the other. Despite the sudden exhausted expression, the man managed to glare fiercely.

“Of course I am not! I haven’t drained myself like that in _months._ Thanks to you I’ll be feeling this for days. _And_ you ruined my net.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Alfred said defensively. The lack of danger  and the exhausted expression on the other’s face made him feel safer, and though he was still on edge about what happened, he realized the man could be a potential ally. He hadn’t been killed yet, thus so far so good, he thought.

“Just be on your merry way already.” The man said as he turned around again. Knowing better than to grab his cloak again – or to keep standing or turn back – Alfred stumbled out of the water and followed him onto land and into the forest. “I didn’t mean _follow_ me, are you deaf as well as blind?”

Alfred stubbornly kept his mouth shut, knowing that insulting the other wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

This man was obviously comfortable with the forest. Alfred tried to follow his footsteps exactly, fearing murderous trees or branches. Perhaps Alfred could convince the man to lead him out of the forest.

Though to where? If Spades was under attack, if they were searching for him… then he was royally screwed. Was it even safe to go to the palace?

In his train of thought, Alfred failed to notice that the green cloaked man had abruptly turned, as if avoiding something. Alfred didn’t follow, and shouted in alarm as suddenly his arm was grabbed by a long, slimy thing.

The thing proved to be a tendril connected to a large plant, trying to pull him closer.

This was it. He was not going to die by drowning, or the hand of another man or even not by a mage. No, he was going to get eaten by a _stupid plant._ He was sure this would go down in history, if they would ever find his body. Courageous, next-in-line King Alfred, eaten by a _plant._

 He heard a slicing sound as he watched the man harshly hit the tendril with his stave, green light emitting from it in sparks. The plant screeched and curled back into itself, hiding itself from view.

Safe from the plant meant that he was now under scrutiny by those glaring green eyes once more, however. Despite that, Alfred noticed the man was kind of slouching, leaning on his stave, which might have something to do with draining his magic. Alfred felt weirdly responsible.

“Do you want to die? _Who_ are you, and _why_ are you here?”

Alfred felt a strange pull in his body, all of a sudden. His head throbbed as he felt compelled to spill the truth and more, and he frowned as he bit his cheeks. Apparently his silence was not what the other man expected, and he watched the other blonde cock his head in confusion.

“Were you using magic on me?!”

“The simple-minded are easily swayed.” The man said, unimpressed by the fact Alfred had _not_ been swayed. “Now tell me or I will leave you here to die.”

He wasn’t about to take a chance on the man’s (empty sounding) threats.

“My name is Alfred. My family and I got attacked by those men, I think they’re Clubs. I managed to escape and ended up here.”

The man scoffed. “You abandoned your family? Pathetic. Go back where you came from.”

Alfred watched helplessly – and slightly hurt and offended – as the man turned around and took a few steps. Abruptly the man stopped, however, swatting at something in the air with his free hand.

“Stop that! Why should I help him? Who cares if he dies?” Alfred was more confused than ever as he watched the man talk to thin air, swatting around as if something was flying around his head. “I don’t, you bloody prat! You don’t know that. Ugh, _fine.”_

The man turned around briskly, looking kind of sullen, and Alfred blinked. What the hell was going on? Was this man actually insane? He wouldn’t be the first mage to lose it, Alfred figured. But a crazed, deadly mage who might be willing to help him was still better than this creepy forest.

“So are you going to help me?”

The man scowled, his eyes flitting over sideways for a moment before his shoulder sagged.

“I will lead you out of the forest, so long as you are not a bother to me. Where are you from?”

Alfred wanted to whoop in joy at his success. He quickly bound over to the man, looking down with a sheepish smile. “Spades. But I can’t go back. Those men were after me, and I think they invaded or something. The King has been murdered, too.”

“Well, what do you know.” The other man said, as if he were bored with the current state of politics. Alfred was kind of offended by that. Silence followed, the man obviously scrutinizing him. “Why can’t you go back?”

“I told you, those men were after me!”

“I heard you, prat.” The man rolled his eyes. “But why should they care about _one_ Spades’ fool. Tell me the truth or I will not help you.”

Alfred weighed his options. Judging by his boredom of the politics, it was very likely that the man was actually not loyal to any kingdom. Which wouldn’t help him per se, but it wouldn’t have to be a danger either. Besides, what choice did he have?

Alfred nodded to himself, and reached up to drag his shirt down a little, revealing the top of his mark on his chest. He smugly noticed it definitely caught the other man’s eyes, interest barely concealed in his emerald eyes.

“I’m the next King. That’s why they’re after me.”

He watched as the man’s hand raised slightly, as if reaching out to touch the mark. He wasn’t sure how he would feel about that, but before connecting to his skin, the man had dropped his hand again.

“If you are the next King, then you need to head back towards your capitol.” He said dully, as if it were obvious.

“The capitol is days away from here! And I don’t think it’s safe-“

“All right, shut up. Clubs, you say? I could lead you to another Kingdom, then.”

Diamonds was often known for its neutrality. Hearts was another case, though it had always been clear they favoured Spades over Clubs. But it was possible they didn’t want anything to do with the war that could come from this, perhaps they too had been threatened by Clubs.

“How about Diamonds?” He asked, thinking it over.

Diamonds would be the best option. Whilst they weren’t as strong as Spades, their military was no joke. Clubs would think twice about attacking Diamonds _and_ Spades. And, Diamonds didn’t share any borders with Clubs, whereas Spades and Hearts were neighbours with both Kingdoms.

The man didn’t look very happy with his choice, but nodded nonetheless.

“I hope you know how to hunt,” he said as he turned around and motioned for Alfred to follow. “for I am not going to baby you.”

“I can take care of myself!” Alfred said defensively, even though he knew that was bullshit. He had hunted before, of course, but it wasn’t something he was good at. And seeing as he needed the other’s help, he was fairly sure that he couldn’t take care of himself in this forest. “What can I call you?”

“Arthur.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sings 'I stand alone' for a few hours*
> 
> So yes, the white-haired man was Gilbert, and yes, he is going to be a Joker. More about that will be explained later on in the story. 
> 
> The topography is as following.  
> North is Clubs, West is Spades, East is Hearts, South is Diamonds. So Diamonds is opposite from Clubs, and they share no border, because in the middle of the lands is the forest.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, nothing special happens in this chapter and therefore it was duller than usual to write. Still, I needed to write some more information about Arthur and their budding friendship, lol. Enjoy!

Ten days full of near-death experiences in a forest that seemed intent on killing him, did wonders for your mental health.

At first Alfred freaked out about every single thing, having to stop because he felt like hyperventilating and panicking. He wasn’t even sure if he managed to sleep one hour the first night in the forest, constantly on edge for everything.

But after a week, he was dull to it. He sidestepped vines from plants shooting out to grab him as if it were the most normal thing to do. He didn’t even get startled from sudden moving leafs or twigs on the ground anymore, running away from his feet. He was fairly certain that when a plant had _hissed_ at him the day before, all Alfred had done was give it an unimpressed snort.

The moving of trees did still unnerve him however, but he quickly learned that if he kept close to Arthur that most things would leave him alone. Arthur learned this too, having snapped at him to stay close after Alfred wandered off for the fifth time, and got attacked for the fifth time.

Perhaps what was most unnerving was the lack of fauna in the forest. Aside from weird mutated rat-like creatures, moving vegetation, the occasional fish and squirrel, there were no animals in the forest. No deer, no birds. The lack of birds disturbed him the most – the forest was immensely quiet, safe for the occasional rustling of plants.

He would have probably gone insane without his travelling companion.

Well, not that said companion was such good company to be in.

Okay, no, Alfred wouldn’t choose loneliness over being with Arthur, and to be really honest, Arthur was okay to hang out with. The man seriously needed to brush up on his people skill’s, and his social interaction with the mage was bordering pathetic, but at least it was something.

At first, Alfred felt kind of reserved towards the man. Arthur slept a measly six hours (Alfred was used to at least eight), and didn’t allow Alfred any kind of luxury. His diet, and subsequently also Alfred’s current diet, consisted of berries, water and he occasional fish. He was fairly sure he had seen the man munching on a tree bark of all things.

Because of Alfred’s incompetence to search for proper food (there was no hunting to be done, and he had nearly vomited his brains out thrice after eating poisonous berries), Arthur had taken it upon himself to collect food for the both of them. He shared his knowledge of edible plants and berries with Alfred too, but he had a hard time distinguishing the right kind of red or blue from the rest.

But the mediocre amount of food and sleep wore Alfred out. The first few days he lacked any kind of enthusiasm or energy, his stomach constantly grumbling and his sleepy limbs feeling too heavy to move. By the fifth day he woke up feeling energized once more, and he realized he was quickly adapting to his current predicament. Thank the heavens for small favours, huh?

Once he was no longer fully focused on his own misery, he realized that Arthur was trying, too.

At first he believed Arthur was only indulging him with short conversations so that Alfred would shut up, as the man often looked tight-lipped or annoyed. But after he stopped his panicky focus on the forest, and had more time to focus on the mage, he noticed that what he believed was not entirely accurate.

Often Arthur’s eyes would drift over to his own, only to hastily divert once more when he would notice Alfred would be looking. Sometimes Alfred caught the man staring at him too, though every time Arthur was caught he would pretend to look indifferent (the red hue on his cheeks didn’t help him).

And occasionally there was an odd expression on Arthur’s face during their conversations, as if he wanted to ask something but felt like he shouldn’t.

Alfred wished he would just say what was on his mind. As of now, their conversations mostly consisted about the forest and their destination. Apparently Arthur found everything about the forest very interesting, and the way he talked often piqued Alfred’s curiosity nonetheless, but there was only so much that was interesting.

So eventually Alfred had worked up to a point he had managed to weasel some personal information out of Arthur. Such as, the man was four years older than himself, and claimed to have lived here all his life (which was obviously a lie, but Alfred wasn’t going to pry yet).

But the way Arthur’s mood often shifted from conversational to snappy, or the way his face would change from indifferent to embarrassed, made one thing clear to Alfred – the man was _really_ not used to social interaction or to travelling with someone.

Well, with humans, because he more than once witnessed Arthur muttering to something non-existent in the air. Alfred wasn’t sure if the forest was just really enchanted, or if Arthur had gone insane from solitude, but he wasn’t going to ask.

And since that revelation, it was much easier for him to communicate with the mage. Sure, he was annoyed half of the time, but the other half of the time Arthur was almost being friendly, responding to his taunts with his own and answering his questions patiently.

Once, Alfred had even woken up from a particularly cold night with the heavy green cloak Arthur always wore covering him, functioning as a blanket. Arthur had been idly carving symbols into his stave, a strange light surrounding him leading Alfred to believe he was using his own magic to keep him warm.

And if _that_ wasn’t a sign of a budding friendship, Alfred didn’t know what was!

Though he should probably not get attached to the mage. Alfred was under no illusion that Arthur would show him to the Diamonds’ border and promptly leave to return to the forest, alone.

The current day wasn’t very eventful – save for an incident with Arthur’s elemental magic. Alfred found out the hard way that fire was Arthur’s worst element. When they had found a small, safe river, Alfred took the liberty to quickly wash himself and his clothes of the dirt that had been caked into it.

Arthur had been impatient and tried to quicken the drying of the fabrics, but it had resulted in the fabrics being charred. So now Alfred walked around with two uneven sleeves and a hole in his pants, but at least he didn’t have to wander around in only his underwear

He also knew that this was a touchy subject, because Alfred tried to tease him about it and had promptly been tripped by his stave.

Currently he was in the midst of regaling a tale about a festival in Spades, Arthur listening with rapt attention. It was almost adorable – the man soaked up stories about everyday life in Kingdoms the same way Matthew used to soak up Alfred’s boastful tales (which weren’t always true).

Alfred sneaked a glance over to the mage. He easily blended in with his surroundings, with the dark green cloak, so Alfred always made sure to keep a close eye on the other. Oddly enough, he fit right in with his surroundings however, as if he had indeed been born here, as if he belonged here.

“And then Mattie flooded the entire stage, and it was _awesome_. _”_ Alfred finished the story, grinning widely at the memory. It had been a contest wherein people had to bite apples to get them out of a trunk full of water, only Matthew’s component was being a jackass and dunked Mattie under, to which Matthew retaliated unconsciously.

Arthur rolled his eyes but he looked amused, so mission accomplished. “Your brother has magic, then?”

“Yeah. He’s pretty good at it too, though he never had a teacher or anything. He’s embarrassed of it.”

At the last part, Arthur looked strangely forlorn, and Alfred wanted to agree – magic was nothing to be embarrassed of. But he wondered if that was the only thing why Arthur had that expression. He wasn’t in the mood to pry and risk Arthur’s wrath however, so instead he swiftly changed the subject.

 “Man, I’m so tired. Can’t we rest for a bit?”

The diversion worked, Arthur’s face changing from the thoughtfully sad one back towards a more annoyed one. “We are still _days_ from the Diamonds border. We have to keep going.”

“I’ll be of no use if I drop dead from exhaustion!”

“You are such a baby. How are you going to command an entire army if a little trekking exhausts you so?”

Alfred resisted the urge to stick out his tongue. Despite being loyal to no Kingdom and having claimed to have lived in the forest for all his life, Arthur seemed to know a lot about the Kingdoms. Not about everyday life in the Kingdoms, but he knew random stuff about this or that. Thus Alfred knew he was lying about having lived here for all his life.

He wondered what Kingdom Arthur grew up in. The information he wasn’t given led him to all kinds of wild fantasies. Perhaps Arthur was on the run. Perhaps he had been raised by forest creatures. Perhaps Arthur was exiled because he was such a powerful mage. Oh, the possibilities!

Still, sometimes, a man has to do what a man has to do. He stopped walking altogether, a somewhat playful expression on his face as Arthur turned around to see what the hold-up was.

For the first time that week, however, Arthur didn’t snap at him or glare at him for the delay – instead Arthur just sighed, looking strangely worn out himself.

Alfred figured it could be because of the same reasons. Arthur hadn’t exhausted his magic since the day they met, occasionally using a spell. Alfred was under the impression it wasn’t anything too harsh on him.

Truly, the ease in which Arthur conjured force fields to protect them whilst they slept, or how easily he pushed murderous plants back into their places, or even the elegancy in how he transported water from the river to his flask – it was riveting, and it looked entirely natural on Arthur.

 “Fine, you sod. We will reach an old guard-post soon, we will rest there.”

“An old guard-post?” Alfred asked, curiosity spiked as he began walking again – the offer was reasonable, he figured. “I thought the forest was mostly uninhabited?”

Arthur hummed. “It is. But centuries ago, the forest was home to many creatures, as well as the King and Queen of Suits.”

Oh, Suits. Alfred had been told the usual stories, knows about the stories he could read because he had access to the study books from the palace. He didn’t know a terrible lot about it however, and wondered how much of the books was actually true.

For example, there was an entire section with so much bad-mouthing on Clubs, that Alfred realised was probably just propaganda. Which was kind of confusing to say now, that Clubs was the actual enemy once more, but still.

“Are there more buildings still left in the forest?”

“Of course. The palace is still there. Not intact, mind you. The forest and the years haven’t been kind on its stones, and it has been raided more than once in the past.”

“Wow, wait, the old palace, the Suits palace? It’s still here?”

Arthur looked at him oddly. “Of course. Why shouldn’t it be?”

Alfred had always assumed the palace would be destroyed along with the Suits regime, burned to the ground. It has been centuries, so even if it hadn’t been destroyed then, he had assumed it might have been done in by erosion or animals.

He had heard tales however, about how the palace was glorious. How it entwined with the woods around them, but shone like the purest of gems. There were poems about balls being held inside of the magnificent building, and he had seen paintings, but to see the _real deal_?

“Where is it?”

“A few days travel from here, I reckon. Do you want to see it?”

Alfred bit his lip. He wanted nothing more than to visit it, he wanted to see this important bit of history and indulge himself in its glory. But he had a duty and he had to get to Diamonds, because he was to be the next king of Spades and… well, he had a duty.

Thinking about it made Alfred jittery and anxious however, so he tried not to think about it. Arthur constantly reminded him with taunting remarks, calling him ‘Your Highness’ when he was sarcastic, but that was just for fun.

But what was he even going to do when he reached Diamonds? Arthur would just leave him there and go back to the forest. Alfred would have to find the capitol and palace, and… what even was he going to do or say? He wasn’t even sure if they were going to help him. Perhaps he should’ve just gone back to Spades, after all.

“Are you even listening to me?” His shoulder was slapped harshly with the end of Arthur’s magic stave, and he was pulled from his thoughts. Apparently Arthur had been talking to him.

 “Sorry.” Alfred grunted, smiling sheepishly. “What were you saying?”

“I said, that if you wanted to see it, we would have to take a detour of about a week.”

Alfred realized Arthur was offering to show him, and that he wasn’t even complaining about having to spend more time with Alfred. That tickled him more than realizing he wanted to avoid his duty, though not in a bad sense per se.

“I don’t know.” Alfred said as he considered the idea. “I really want to. But I can’t go traipsing around for fun… I can’t afford that.”

Arthur eyed him for a moment, walking next to him towards their destination in silence. After a minute or so, the shorter blonde nodded.

“I was expecting you to jump at the opportunity.” He admitted with a small smile.

Alfred’s heart jumped slightly in joy – the man smiled! He wasn’t sure if he had seen Arthur smile before. There had been moments where Arthur was watching something Alfred couldn’t see (as if Arthur were imagining things), and his lips had been turned up slightly in an amused smirk, but _this_ was an actual smile. And directed to him, too.

“Instead you made a respectable and mature choice.”

“I can totally be mature and stuff.”

“ _Totally_.” Arthur repeated in a deadpan voice, laced with a little sarcasm. Alfred laughed nervously, rubbing his neck.

Okay, so, Alfred could absolutely admit to having a kind of weird crush on the man. How couldn’t he? He was practically the stuff of heroic tales. Powerful mage rescues an Alfred in distress, offering help. And he was the only person Alfred had seen in nearly two weeks so… yeah.

He wasn’t hard to look at either. And he was so _intelligent_. The way he carried himself screamed confidence, and more often than not Alfred walked behind him to appreciatively leer at the man. He was a healthy adolescent after all, don’t judge.

 “Well then, your Majesty,” Ah, the moment was over. “let’s not dilly-dally.”

Alfred was often hysterical about Arthur’s choice of words too, but for now he tried to keep his giggles in.

It didn’t take them very long, probably half an hour or something, until Alfred spotted the guard-post Arthur had been talking about.

It was as tall as the trees which hid the sky above them, though the stone has crumbled here and there. The plants overtook most of the building, twigs of trees having curled around the stones and moss and weed growing out of creaks here and there.

Still, it looked magnificent, especially since he knew how old it really was.

Arthur apparently wanted to stop outside of it, seeing as it was warm enough in the forest to sit outside, but at Alfred’s curious gazes he had rolled his eyes and gestured for Alfred to go inside with a warning to be careful.

Alfred gaped – despite it being barren and dead-looking, it was _amazing_. The stone on the walls and stairs had crumbled a little, missing pieces here and there. Plants have made their way into the building, curling at the floor and ceiling. Yet the carvings in the wall were still vaguely visible.

He imagined there having been luxurious carpets and paintings, decorating the area. He walked over to one side of the decent sized entrance and ran his hands over the wall, ignoring the scuttling of tiny little feet he heard as he apparently frightened whatever living being was in here. The stone felt rough underneath his hands, and he could easily follow the carvings with his fingers.

He traced one carving in particular until the end of said wall, wondering how the entire image had once looked like.

“Those carvings represent the people of Suits and their connections with each other. Magic, included. It was not odd for the people to honour the forest with artistic gestures.” Arthur said softly as he followed Alfred inside.

The area was kind of dark however, and Alfred squinted as he stepped back to try and see the entire picture, to see what Arthur meant. Arthur smirked, waving his stave around. He mumbled something, and within a few seconds a soft, green light emitted from the top of his staff, basking the room in an eerie glow.

The carvings were a lot clearer then, delicate designs forming images. They didn’t mean very much to Alfred, but they were pretty nonetheless. He watched in awe – if he was right, he could even see the Spades mark, as well as what had to be Hearts, Diamonds and Clubs marks, in certain corners.

The green light shifted, and Alfred turned around to see Arthur was walking up the stairs.

“Careful!” Alfred shouted in alarm as a stone underneath Arthur’s foot suddenly crumbled. Arthur didn’t even falter however, sending a smug smirk to Alfred as he continued ascending the round stairs.

Alfred followed quickly, holding a steadying hand on the wall as he too walked up the stairs. They were quite long however, and he felt a little dizzy when he finally reached the top, as the stairs were built in circles alongside the walls.

Finally at the top, he was glad Arthur had already taken a seat against a wall, so he could follow suit. There were large openings on the walls here, probably so guards could actually keep watch. Before sitting down, Alfred looked out of the openings.

They were up quite high, and it was as if the top of the forest was in hand-reach. The ground below them was a far way down, and he purposefully didn’t look at the distance, instead gazing at the trees around them. A sliver of sunlight managed its way through the dense forest, and it was weirdly out of place.

It was the first sign of the outside world he had seen since he had arrived here.

“With how dense the forest is,” Alfred mused to no one in particular. “you would think it would be in a constant state of darkness. Though I guess that’s the enchanted part, huh?”

Arthur hummed, and when Alfred turned around he saw that Arthur was curiously watching something. Following his gaze, Alfred saw only stone and carvings around them, and he frowned. It wasn’t the first time Arthur’s gaze wandered off, and Alfred hadn’t forgotten the ‘talking-to-no-one’ incident either.

Sitting down next to Arthur, he looked at the same spot as Arthur was doing, staying silent.

After about half an hour, Arthur’s cheeks got a little colour however, which was hilarious to Alfred. The mage sputtered a little and averted his eyes quickly. Seeing Alfred’s confused glance, made him colour even more.

Alfred noticed how the man blushed – if Alfred blushed, he would become a lobster, and thus he had early on learned to control his embarrassment and hide it behind overzealous behaviour. The hue of red on Arthur’s cheeks suited him very attractively, Alfred thought with a little jealousy.

“There are-” Arthur started weakly, gesturing to the spot. “There are two trolls. They think they are being funny. They have been following today, the little bastards.”

 _Trolls_.

“Very funny.”

Arthur gave him perhaps the most unimpressed look yet.

“Of course you cannot see them.” He muttered, more to himself than to Alfred.

Alfred frowned and turned towards Arthur a bit more. Whilst there was a very big chance that Arthur was just seeing things and was actually a bit insane from all the years of solitude, this _was_ an enchanted forest. He wasn’t going to rule anything out.

“But why can’t I see them?”

“There could be several reasons,” Arthur said, obviously reassured by Alfred’s interest. “It could be that you have not the slightest of magic in you. I sincerely doubt that, what with you being a King. It could be-“

“You’re saying I have magic?”

Arthur looked a little miffed at being interrupted, but nodded nonetheless.

“Every royal of every kingdom possesses magic. The Queen’s magic is strong enough to wield, whereas the magic of the King and Jack is dormant, slumbering. Surely you know this.”

Arthur sounded a little as if he were scolding Alfred, for forgetting something he should have learned when he was younger. Alfred didn’t care. He couldn’t remember reading about any of this.

“What about the current Kings? Any special abilities?”

“How should I know? You knew your own King best, did nothing ever seem out of the ordinary to you?”

“I wouldn’t know. I met the man perhaps a handful of times.” Alfred said, feeling a little sad at that fact. Now that he was dead, he would never have a chance to learn more from the man.

Alfred had always kind of hoped that when he would be introduced to court, that he’d have a few more years so that the King could teach him. In a way, the man fulfilled some kind of father position to Alfred, though he was nowhere near as devastated as he had been when his own father died. He supposed lots of people could fulfil the parent position when it came to teaching him about court – the Jack too.

He just hoped the Jack and the Queen were all right. Spades had a very large army. Whilst it is entirely possible for the King to have been assassinated, would Spades really be taken over really quickly? Alfred was more keen to believe that whilst the land was probably being invaded, Spades could hold his own very well.

“Though my father was his Ace, and I often heard strange tales. I don’t know if they had anything to do with magic, however.”

“Have you ever noticed anything out of the ordinary about yourself?”

Alfred thought long about that one. Nothing came to mind but a few bizarre incidents when he was younger. There had been a moment when he was ten, when he had lifted up an entire cart with one hand. He blamed it on the adrenaline, as someone had been stuck underneath it, and he wanted to help.

In fact, there had been more incidents wherein he suddenly possessed freakish strength. Simpler things were times he could lift entire pieces of furniture with no problem to help his mother clean, and even a time wherein he all but carried one of the farm’s cows on his back when the poor animal had been hurt.

His mother’s favourite dinner-table story was of when Alfred was five years old and swung a bull that had meant to attack him by its front legs in circles. Apparently he had thrown the animal into the distance afterwards, and it had died, but the sight had been terrifying and comical.

He chose not to speak of it, however. The moments appeared and went, and weren’t consistent, aside from being able to lift pieces of furniture with no problem. He certainly didn’t possess any of the strength when his hands were bound and when he was in danger, after all.

“Perhaps it only happens after you’re crowned or something.” Alfred instead said with a shrug.

“Perhaps. I’m not familiar with the concept, anyway. It could very well be that your magic lies not in something physical. Though you aren’t the brightest, either.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Have you ever been to the palace?” Arthur asked, swiftly changing the subject with an amused expression.

At Alfred’s nod, Arthur’s eyes shone with interest, and whilst his next question was obvious, Alfred waited for Arthur to ask it. It was obviously uncomfortable for Arthur to display the interest, but he persevered, the mage pointedly not locking eyes with Alfred.

“What does it look like?”

 “I would say it was the most beautiful palace ever, but I’ve only ever seen one, so I can’t really judge. It’s big, though. Lots of servants, lots of halls to get lost in.”

Arthur almost snorted, giving him a flat look. “Of course it is big. That’s not what I meant. What are the colours? What does the ballroom look like?”

“The colours? I guess the stone is just grey, but there is a lot of blue and some gold, too. I think the ballroom is the biggest room in the entire palace. The floor shines, and it’s almost as if you can see your reflection in it. There are large windows, stretching from the floor to the insanely high ceiling. It’s decorated with paintings too, the walls and ceiling.”

Arthur looked almost as if he were imagining the thing, a dreamy kind of look on his face, and it prompted Alfred to continue, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest at the apparent approval. 

“But I love the throne room best, I think. It’s simpler, yet as elegant as the ballroom. I love how the King and Queen’s throne are the same too, none of the masculine and feminine stuff. Only the Jack’s seat is different, situated diagonally of the Queen’s throne.” He went into a little more useless details – the fabrics of the cushions, the gems, the stairs that led to the throne, etcetera.

“What about the gardens?”

The gardens? What a strange question to ask.

“Equally magnificent. Full of roses, too, all kinds of colours. Me and Mattie used to play hide and seek in one of the decorative mazes, until the Jack would fish us out. I don’t know much else, though. I can count the times I visited the place on one hand.”

 “Why is that, anyway?”

“Why is what?” He asked cheekily, offering a grin and Arthur rolled his eyes in an annoyed fashion.

“Why have you not been raised at court? It seems peculiar to me that a future King would be kept on the farms, missing out on any etiquette or politics.”

“I totally learned etiquette and politics, I had a governess! But it was for protecting me in the midst of tense relations with Clubs. Guess they were pretty right in the end. Though that creepy mage still managed to find me.”

“Creepy mage?”

“Yeah, I told you my home was attacked, right? I think this mage was their leader, as he was addressing everyone. White hair, red eyes, total creep.”

Alfred shuddered at the memory. Much like Arthur’s eyes, the guy’s red eyes had almost glowed. His eyes had seemed intent on something, and were terrifying, reminding Alfred of blood. Arthur’s eyes were much more pleasant – they reminded him of fresh leaves and moss, of new life.

He snapped himself out of his lost gaze towards Arthur’s bright eyes, and instead noticed the thoughtful expression on his face. Arthur’s eyes were averted slightly, and he was chewing his lower lip in thought, eyebrows pursing together a little. Usually he only looked like that when danger was ahead, so Alfred was immediately on high alert, looking around.

“What’s wrong? Do you sense something?”

Arthur looked a little unimpressed. “ _Sense_? What am I, a dog?” Arthur would make a terrible dog. “But no, there is no danger. We should continue on anyway.”

“Aw, man! Can’t we rest for like half an hour more? I’m exhausted here, dude.”

Arthur huffed and sat back against the stone wall behind him. “Perhaps you would not be as exhausted if you would stop whining about it. Endurance is obviously not one your better qualities.”

“Don’t worry, I have many good qualities.” Alfred said, sticking out his tongue immaturely. “And it’s not that I’m tired of walking or whatever, it’s just that this forest seems endless. Are we even moving forward? I’m not even certain if we aren’t walking in circles. And everything trying to kill me is pretty exhausting too.” He was aware that he was ranting a little, waving about him to try and get the point through.

Arthur watched him with one raised eyebrow, and when Alfred finally quieted down, the corner of his lips raised slightly in an amused smirk.

“You must be terribly glad that I am taking the safe routes, then.”

“There are unsafe routes? Are you kidding me?”

“Of course there are, barren areas filled with predators. I am leading us through dense areas deliberately, so that the worst danger we would face are trees. It is why we move slower than planned, but by all means, if you want to pass through the-“

 “I’m good.”

They shared a comfortable silence after that, Arthur having closed his eyes and scrunching his eyebrows a little in thought, whilst Alfred used his fingers to draw lines in the dust on the ground. He realized he was only getting more tired by the minute, his body finally relaxing a little, so perhaps they should go sometime soon.

Also, when he was sitting and had nothing to do, he would start to think. That wasn’t his favourite pastime these days. With a worried frown he thought back to Mattie and his mother. He hoped they were all right. He hoped that they had been left alone as soon as he left, but it was entirely possible that they were captured to be used as bribe against the future King of Spades. And it that case, he just hoped they weren’t tortured or anything.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything ever happened to them, especially not if it was his fault.

He wasn’t allowed to wallow in self-pity for a long time however, for suddenly Arthur sat upright and snapped his eyes open, looking ahead of himself with a frown.

“What was that?” He heard the mage ask, and just as Alfred wanted to reply that he didn’t say anything, he noticed Arthur staring in front of him, at _nothing_ again. “Are you sure?”

“Troll? Fairy? Elf?” Alfred asked with a lopsided grin, and Arthur glared at him to shush him up.

“That’s not possible, I covered our tracks. Of course I’m not saying that you’re lying. Don’t be a wanker. Okay, thank you.” Arthur nodded and abruptly stood up, nodding for Alfred to do so as well. “We’ve been followed.”

“ _What_?”

“They are not close, yet. We should move on. Damn it, I thought I covered everything.” Arthur angrily huffed, descending the stairs quickly with Alfred in tow.

“Who’s following us?”

“Who do you think?” Arthur snapped. “Clubs men, led by your creepy mage. Otherwise there was no way they could have survived, I reckon.”

As soon as they were out of the guard tower, Arthur stilled, looking around with the utmost concentration. Rather mortified by the idea of being followed, Alfred shut up for once, allowing Arthur to scan the area.

He gasped however – when the back of Arthur’s cloak was suddenly lifted as if a strong gust of air waved underneath it. But there was no air, none that Alfred could feel, and he watched Arthur turn slightly to swat at the invisible _thing_ underneath his cloak. Okay, so Arthur was definitely not crazy, and Alfred was just not able to see things.

“All right, they should be at least a day away from us. But we mustn’t linger anyhow.” Arthur eventually said, appearing to have relaxed a little more. He started walking in the direction they were originally going, Alfred following him without complaint.

“But you can totally best them,” Alfred said after a while, looking over to his companion. “I mean, you practically decimated those other guards.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but the praise did have some effect, for he walked a little straighter, and Alfred smiled knowingly.

“Yes, but those weren’t mages.” Arthur replied. “And that white haired mage worries me.”

“Why? Do you know him?”

“Not personally, I don’t.” He eyed Alfred for a moment as they slowed their step, Arthur apparently mindful of the vegetation around them and Alfred doing his best to follow his footsteps and not fuck up. “Have you ever heard stories about Jokers?”

“Jokers? Sure. What about them? Wait, you mean to say that dude was a Joker?”

“I am just speculating.”

With that, the conversation was over, and Alfred frowned as he milled over his thoughts. Jokers belonged to no Kingdom and just generally did what they had to do in all four of the lands. At least, that’s what the stories said. It would be weird for a Joker to actually work for a Kingdom, wouldn’t it?

He wasn’t aware that Jokers had magic that they could wield, either, but he knew only little about them. He knew that they did as they pleased, messing with Kingdoms and upsetting the balance, albeit never to the brink of war.

They were generally just classified as the trouble makers that you couldn’t capture or jail, and whilst they were dangerous, no Kingdom had made any notion about them for a few dozen years now.

So if that man back at the farm _had_ been the Joker, what did that mean? Was it possible that Joker worked for Clubs, despite requiring to have no loyalty?

One thing he knew for sure, if it _was_ the Joker, and was following him and Arthur, they indeed better make haste towards safer areas.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this! Two updates in two days! Don't get used to it, though :( I'm merely in the midst of my exam period - so I procrastinate everything important and instead write stories about gay countries. The chapter after this one will be finished remotely soon as well, but after that, I really need to force myself to go and do right, lol. 
> 
> enjoy!

 Alfred thought that he was going to die from lack of oxygen. He bend over to clutch at his stomach and tried to heave in air, tears threatening to escape from his eyes.

He hadn’t laughed this hard in _weeks_.

Squinting slightly he noticed Arthur having stopped walking as well, an incredibly embarrassed and impatient expression on his face. Any moment now he would probably start an angry rant or trip him or something.

The expression on Arthur’s face (was he _serious_ ) just made him laugh even more, and it finally got a response out of the mage.

“Can it, you wanker!”

“I just, I can’t-“ Alfred tried, choking on the words. He tried to straighten himself as he rode out his hysterical giggling, taking a few deep breaths. “A _flying bunny?!_ ”

“Mint. Flying mint bunny.” Arthur corrected, and Alfred wanted to roll on the floor.

“This can’t be serious. You’re pulling my leg here, aren’t you?”

Alfred was very gullible already – he’d believe invisible elves, fairies, trolls. He’d already seen moving trees and plants, or twigs with legs. He even believed in ghosts and other haunted beings, but a flying bunny? Bunnies didn’t fly, end of story. Arthur was definitely insane on this part.

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

_Woah._

Arthur almost sounded sad at that part. Alfred did his best to shut his giggling up and stand up straight, forcing a serious expression on his face. it must have not looked very convincing by the unimpressed look Arthur was giving him.

“Hey, hey, no.” Alfred quickly said, raising his hands in a placating manner. “You definitely did good telling me. After all I want to know your… imaginary friends…” He bit his lip to stop from laughing again.

Arthur looked absolutely mortified.

“Fine! See if I care if you get to Diamonds. I should have just let you rot!”

“Aw, you don’t mean that.”

Alfred watched in delight as Arthur’s face shifted to embarrassment once more – they had been in the woods together for nearly twenty days now, and Alfred had become a master in reading Arthur’s expressions.

For example, it was whenever Arthur’s expression was unreadable or cold that he really had to walk on his toes. That Arthur was kind of scary, so whenever Alfred noticed he had pushed it a little too far with his prying or general annoyances, he’d shut up promptly and go out of his way not to be in the way.

There were also times where Arthur’s face was thoughtful, eyes shining with curiosity, the mage biting his lips lightly. This was when Alfred could have the best conversations with the mage, for not only did Arthur want to know things, he was also more willing to share his own knowledge.

Occasionally Arthur’s eyes would shine with playful mirth instead, his lips curled in an amused smirk, and this was either when Alfred could mess around with the mage and it being friendly and companionable, or when Alfred knew he was in trouble (and was going to get tripped or soaked or something). He didn’t mind for the laughs that followed warmed his entire being so quickly.

Right now, Arthur looked thoroughly embarrassed. It was one of Alfred’s favourites, to be honest. It was better than ashamed – he hadn’t seen Arthur ashamed, but he figured it wouldn’t be pretty. But embarrassed, oh, that was just gold.

There would be a tinge of uncertainty in his eyes that Alfred would rather have gone, but it wasn’t much, so it was fine. His lips would be tightly clipped together in a firm line, and sometimes he even scrunched his nose up a little. His impressionable eyebrows pushed together lightly and the most _adorable_ red colour would be dusting his cheeks, sometimes even to the extent of the tip of his ears.

But thus he also knew Arthur didn’t mean what he was saying. If he said it with the cold, unreadable expression, then he was in for trouble. Right now, Arthur was just trying to scare him.

Alfred wondered if he had always been good in reading people like this, but he realized it might have something more to do with Arthur never having learned to hide his emotions from people. Social etiquette, and all.

Even if he were not the future King of Spades, Alfred would have learned to keep his emotions in check from his mother, who wanted to raise her kids respectably.

“You may ridicule my friend all you want,” Arthur eventually said, sticking his nose up a little in a show of arrogance. “but he was the one that convinced me to take you with me.”

“Huh, really?” Alfred remembered Arthur talking to something in the air, before allowing Alfred to come with him.

But a flying bunny? Perhaps it was just a fairy, playing tricks on Arthur’s mind. Alfred could not believe it was a bunny, mint-coloured, with wings. He decided to stay on Arthur’s good side however, and drop the subject. If Arthur wanted to believe it was a flying bunny, then that was okay.

“And who told me that we were being followed. I am thankful he is not around to listen to your childish taunting, or he might think of stopping to help us!”

The very light distraught look on Arthur’s face told Alfred that was the last thing Arthur wanted, and it briefly occurred to him that whilst it might be a fairy pretending to be a bunny, it was probably one of the only friends Arthur had in this forest.

Perhaps he _should_ be a little more considerate.

“I’m sorry.” He said, this time genuine. “It’s hard to wrap my mind about things I cannot see.”

“You are such a simpleton.” Arthur sniffed. “And it is no wonder they do not show themselves to you. But I accept your apology.”

“Show themselves to me? I thought it was that I just couldn’t see them?”

“Of course not. When the forest and its inhabitants were killed so many years ago, they evolved. They can hide themselves from the unused eye using magic.”

“Unused eye?”

“People without real magic tend to believe, unconsciously, that magic is not real. Even though you know it is, because you have seen me and your brother, your body is still telling you magic is not real because you yourself did not experience it.”

Huh. That made sense, Alfred figured.

“So my brother will be able to see this flying bunny?”

“That depends on the strength of his magic. Weaker magic is easily fooled by these creatures illusions.”

The conversation was apparently doing wonders for Arthur’s self-esteem, Alfred noticed, as the man’s embarrassed look disappeared and he stood a little straighter, obviously proud of acknowledging he did not possess ‘weaker’ magic.

With the embarrassing moment over, Arthur started to walk again, Alfred quickly falling in step next to him. Alfred waited a while to start talking again, giving Arthur the time to get over the embarrassment of their previous conversation, so that they could exchange more pleasant words.

“You know a lot about magic.”

“Of course I do.”

“Aside from your own magic.” Alfred corrected smartly. “I meant the forest. The magic in here. The creatures.”

Offering the other blonde a deadpan look, Arthur sighed. “It took them a while to get used to me, too. They did not easily show themselves to me. Even the ones I could see on my own, fled whenever I came close. The history and knowledge they shared with me, it is the origin of all magic.”

“I wonder why I was taught so many things about politics, economics, and so on, but never anything important about magic.”

Arthur considered the suggestion, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “I suppose that is, because the King should not busy himself with such affairs. It is the Queen’s task, naturally.”

“Yeah, but still! Shouldn’t I know stuff to help my future Queen or something?”

That just seemed reasonable, right? If something were ever to happen to his Queen, magic-related, shouldn’t he be able to help? Alfred knew that there would be people at court that would study magic, however, and would be able to help, but  still. Romantic or not, he was going to be someone’s husband, and being someone’s husband meant that you had to help them if you could.

He voiced as much, and Arthur offered him a rare smile. “That is very chivalrous of you, but as you said, the Queen probably has an entire court standing behind her.”

“Or him.”

“Him?”

Alfred was a little confused – did Arthur not know that? He seemed to know so much.

“The Queen is not necessarily a woman.” At Arthur’s perplexed frown, his suspicions were confirmed. “You didn’t know? The current Queen of Hearts is male. Whilst it is more common for the Queens to be women, yeah, it’s not rare for the Queen to be male.”

“I…” Arthur looked a tiny little embarrassed. “I did not know that.”

“That’s okay,” Alfred said with a grin. “You’ve spent your entire life in the forest, how could you have known?”

 _There_.

There was that defiant look, which told Alfred that Arthur wanted to expose the truth and tell him that he should have known and why he already knew all these things. He didn’t, as usual, and instead bit the insides of his cheeks with an irritated expression.

Alfred wondered if he was ever going to get it out of the mage. He was aware that with each passing day, they were nearing the Diamonds borders. Arthur would leave him there, and he’d most likely never see the mage again.

The thought made him feel incredibly sullen, for some reason. Well, not for some reason, Arthur was his friend, right? Alfred thought of him as a friend. He hoped Arthur did so too, instead of seeing him as a nuisance of sorts.

“Have you met your Queen?” Arthur asked after they shared a silence, favouring concentration in climbing over some tricky looking parts of their path.

“Not yet. They might not even been born, though I think they’re just hiding.”

“Why on earth would they hide?”

“My thoughts exactly. I was even starting to wonder if it were possible for my Queen to be born in another kingdom. It happened in history, though only thrice or so.”

Arthur hummed in thought. “Perhaps, if Clubs has been planning to attack Spades for a while, they have found your Queen and captured them?”

Alfred hadn’t thought about that. What _if_ his Queen had been found, this year or the years prior? What _if_ Clubs has been planning this for some time, and had somehow found his Queen when they turned twelve and got the mark?

That would just be sick. If that were the case, Clubs was even more twisted than he thought.

“It’s just a theory, Alfred.”

The use of his name snapped Alfred out of his angry, mental tirade. He instead looked over to Arthur’s curious expression and nodded. He had to have some faith. Perhaps his Queen, who was no doubt skilled in a little of magic, had managed to escape. Perhaps his Queen just simply did not wish to be found, as he originally thought. Perhaps he or she had just not been born yet.

“Tell me more about the Kings and Queens of the kingdoms?” It was obvious Arthur was trying to distract him from more negative thoughts, and Alfred was immensely grateful for it.

“I’ve only personally met them once, when I was young. The Kings of Hearts is a really intimidating man, at first sight. Tall, broad, stoic expression. No fun at all. The Queen of Hearts is someone you might like, I think. All serious and educated and elegant. Their Jack was a really fun person, though. Bubbly, overly excited. Probably not really good for the position. He’s rumoured to have affairs with his King, too.”

“Affairs? What about the Queen?”

“Kings and Queens don’t marry out of love, duh. Two people with marks are just put together, but it’s not expected of them to love another. I was told that it’s allowed to have relationships with other people, as long as you are discreet about it.”

“How crass! What if the King hates the Queen, or vice versa? How are they to rule together if they do not share love?”

Woah, romanticist alert. Though, Alfred was a romantic as well, so he could kind of get the point. He shrugged with a sheepish smile.

“Mutual respect? Or you learn to love each other, perhaps more like friends or siblings. It’s not like you have to do the dirty and get heirs, either. You just have to learn to live together, and make decisions together.”

“So there has never been a King and Queen who could not stand each other? That’s impossible.”

“There probably have. The King and Queen of Diamonds have no relationship whatsoever, I heard. Though their Queen is only sixteen, and their King is well in his twenties. I have never met their Queen, she was only just found when I met the other royals. I did meet their Jack though, who was also her older brother. Strange how the marks can work.”

“Is it uncommon for family to have marks?”

“I don’t know? I think so. Man, it would’ve been awesome if Mattie had the Jack’s mark or something.”

“What if your brother had the Queen’s mark?”

Oh my god, would that even be possible?! Thank small favours that Matthew has already long passed the age where a mark should appear.

“Gross!”

“What about Clubs?”

“I know that the current Queen and King of Clubs are not really friendly. They respect one another, but that’s it. Though that probably has something to do with their age difference. Their Queen came to court when she was twelve, and the King was already in his forties by then. My King often said she was probably forced to do lots of things she didn’t want to do.”

“And yet the country is unified enough to attack Spades.”

Huh. Alfred hadn’t even thought about that. After all, the strongest army belonged to Hearts, and Spades was a close second with their magical prowess. Clubs was only just a little stronger than Diamonds, army wise. So how was it possible for Clubs to have invaded Spades, if their court was divided? Did that really mean they somehow bribed a Joker?

“You know,” Alfred said, taking a teasing tone. “You’re strangely good at this politics thing. I mean, I never even considered why it is they’re strong enough to attack with a court so divided.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “It’s called common sense, Alfred. Just because I might be a hermit, does not mean I have a fool’s mind.”

Again, Alfred wanted to call Arthur out on the bull about having lived here for all his life. He frowned and bit his tongue however.

Their conversation was cut short from there, as they approached some kind of clearing that they would need to cross. Only, it wasn’t a normal clearing with normal ground. The ground consisted of thick branches, and as Alfred approached it (mindful of the trees, because you never know), he noticed that beneath the branches were a few more, but other than that, there was no ground.

Who knew how deep it was?

“Perhaps we should go around.” Alfred suggested, eyeing the shifting branches with a little fear. He turned and froze as Arthur had already walked on one of them, turning around to see why Alfred wasn’t following him.

“Nonsense, that would take too long. Come on now, it’s safe.”

“ _Safe_?” He all but screeched as he watched Arthur being raised and lowered a little by the shifting branch.

Okay, so maybe Arthur had steady feet when it came to moving branches, but Alfred did not.

“Forgive me, but I see no joy in plummeting to my death by whatever is waiting beneath this.” He could just fall down a way and either hurt himself or die, but it was entirely possible to be swallowed up by whomever the branches belonged too. 

Arthur sighed, annoyed. “Alfred, we are _not_ going around. Do you see how wide the clearing is? It could take us a day, and we are being followed, as you know. Now come over here, oh brave King.”

Low blow, man, low blow.

Alfred chewed on his lower lip as he looked behind them. To be honest, the day had been a slow one, and Arthur occasionally reminding him of them being followed slightly got on Alfred’s nerves. Apparently Arthur’s friend had assured them being a day apart, but if they were to take a detour, then that distance could easily be remedied.

Alfred huffed and peeked over the edge once more. Beneath the branches at the surface, were a lot of moving ones.

“What if I fall?”

“You won’t.”

Trusting Arthur was something he had been doing for about twenty days now, so he swallowed his fears and placed one foot on a sturdy looking branch. It didn’t move, so he balanced his arms out and placed his other foot on it too, slowly taking a few steps.

He shuffled forwards instead of walking, but he was making progress anyway. With every small step his confidence grew a little however, because nothing was moving. He was almost where Arthur was, when suddenly, the branch underneath him lurched.

He was aware that he yelped (though he would not admit it later) and stumbled forward. He lost his footing and fell forwards, and was pretty much embracing death at that moment. Instead he managed to fall on his chest, on the sturdy branch. Immediately he clenched his legs and arms around it as he waited its movements out.

Looking up when the movements stopped, he saw Arthur had waltzed over to him with no problems. Arthur was biting his cheeks, and the little movements in his shoulders told Alfred – was that bastard laughing at him?

“What’s so funny?” Alfred accused, tightening his hold on the branch as it swayed a little. Arthur stood as strong as usual, however, and for a moment Alfred wondered if he had ever been on a boat. He'd probably be a talented sailor.

“Your face.” Arthur replied with a playful tone, before crouching down. He held out his free hand towards Alfred, and positioned his stave so that Alfred could reach it. “Now on your knees, and up.”

“Nope.”

“Alfred,” Arthur chided. “grab onto me. It’s not far, and I won’t let you fall. I promise.”

The tender tone of Arthur’s voice made him shiver, and for a moment he glared up at the blonde mage. He finally managed to wrench his hands loose from the branch, though they flew towards Arthur’s hand and stave from there, grabbing on tightly.

With the safety of Arthur’s hold, he quickly pushed himself to his knees. Just as he stood up however, the branch swayed again as if toying with him, and he resisted jumping in Arthur’s arms from shock. He did, however, stumble forward into the mage’s embrace.

He felt Arthur’s chest rumble slightly with laughter again as he steadied Alfred, the rough material of his cloak brushing against Alfred’s hands. Alfred wanted to snap at him and was about to do so as he took a tiny step back and looked at him – but instead was met with Arthur’s smiling face, and any words died on his throat.

His expression looked almost soft, with lack of better explanation. From this close, Alfred could see the tiniest of scars on Arthur’s left temple and jaw, and other than that, his skin was flawless.

He wasn’t really certain what to do with himself that moment, so lost in their proximity.

Arthur wrenched his stave out of Alfred’s grip, much to his displeasure, but kept a firm hold on Alfred’s hand with his free one.

“Just walk as I do.”

Yeah, as if that would help. Still, he swallowed any complaint in favour of concentrating not tumbling down to his death, looking to his feet as he carefully followed any steps Arthur took. They passed branch to branch, and every time one of them swayed he was positive he cut of Arthur’s blood circulation what with gripping him so tight, but Arthur didn’t mention it.

At least nothing shot out of the mass to grab them or push them, or something. That would’ve been horrendous, and honestly, Alfred was expecting it.

He silently trailed behind the man, alternating between freaking out about what was underneath him and freaking out about how warm Arthur’s hand was. They stopped for a moment, Arthur reaching out with his stave to test the next sets of branches for their stability. Alfred couldn’t see his face, but he bet his expression was the thoughtful one, where Arthur might bite his lip a little.

His mind was going down the gutter, he realized, and he was glad that he could focus on the danger underneath them as he felt his face heat up. At least Arthur wasn’t able to see his face. He felt his hand being squeezed as Arthur continued moving, hopping onto another branch with practiced ease.

Alfred felt much like a fool what with stumbling after him, but at least he didn’t fall. He felt the strange presence of warmth around his legs, and figured it was probably Arthur ensuring his stability with magic.

He felt as if an eternity had passed when they _finally_ stepped off the last branch and onto solid ground again. Alfred wanted to kiss the dirt underneath him, but instead just took a few deep breaths and offered a few fearful glances towards the clearing behind them.

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

Arthur’s teasing tone made him acutely aware of the fact that Alfred was still holding Arthur’s hand in a death grip. Arthur made no movements to move away from him or to release himself however, and Alfred momentarily marvelled in how his skin felt against his own before it clicked.

He released Arthur’s hand and almost jumped back a step, creating some distance.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t- those branches- were you trying to _kill-_ “ He was aware that he was stammering and judging by the amused expression on Arthur’s face, he was probably losing his shit over nothing. That didn’t stop his running mouth however. “Please, please tell me this was the only time we had to cross something like-“

“Hush already, you loudmouth.” Arthur eventually interrupted, using his now free hand to straighten out his cloak a little. “It went fine, so stop panicking. I told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”

“Yeah… I guess you’re right. Thank you.” Alfred eventually finished, rather lamely if he said so himself. “Though I’d appreciate some warning the next time. Like, a day ahead or something. Just so I can say my prayers and stuff.”

His nerves ebbed away easily as Arthur laughed at that. Arthur’s laughs were never boisterous or loud such as his own, but instead they were quiet, as if Arthur was trying to hold them in. Alfred thought they were very sweet because of that. He enjoyed how Arthur bent his head forward a little to hide his face from view, casting his eyes downwards.

It was then that he noticed a crinkle in the man’s cloak, on his shoulder. Instinctively his hand shot out and straightened it softly, running his hand over Arthur’s shoulder a few times before the crinkle was gone.

And he was struck with the sudden cautious look Arthur gave him for the spontaneous contact. Arthur narrowed his eyes a little but didn’t move away, watching Alfred intensely. Alfred retracted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly.

Whilst Alfred liked to believe that they became friends, their amount of physical contact was basically nihil. They probably touched more today than they did in all the time they were travelling.

He kind of felt like he had overstepped a boundary, and was about to say something in apology, when he heard a whistling noise. He frowned and turned to where it came from, when a searing pain pierced his leg.

Alfred cried out in shock and pain, and dropped to his knee, clutching the pained area. He felt before he saw an arrow sticking out of the flesh of his calf.

Noticing Arthur had whirled around, Alfred forced his head into the same direction. There, on the other side of the clearing they had just crossed, stood two Clubs men with bows and arrows.

How they had managed to get such a clear shot, was beyond him, though just as Arthur started conjuring up a spell he noticed a set of red eyes gleaming out of the forest behind the men.

The spell had already been released, a blinding green wave heading towards the Clubs men. Arthur turned back to him immediately, helping him stand up. Therefore they both failed to immediately notice Arthur’s spell having bounced against a force field, coming back towards them.

Arthur cursed and pushed the other behind him, Alfred stumbling and falling down again. His leg hurt like _shit,_ and he felt strangely disoriented. Fear gripped his heart momentarily as he saw Arthur getting hit by his own wave of magic.

The mage kept standing, miraculous enough, but was shoved back a few centimetres anyways, feet digging into the earth below him. His cloak flapped around him wildly, and he noticed Arthur wincing, but within seconds Arthur was gesturing his stave and conjuring up a new spell.

Afraid Arthur might not have noticed his spell getting possibly deflected by what must be the white-haired mage hiding in the woods, Alfred got on his knees and reached out to tug at Arthur’s cloak.

“Arthur-“

Apparently Arthur had already noticed the other mage, for he changed the direction his stave was in. Instead of pointing it to the men, he pointed it to the mass of branches between them, and with a final gesture dozens of tendrils of green electricity-like light shot out into the branches.

For a moment nothing happened, and Arthur bend down to grab Alfred once more, dragging him to his feet. As he stood up, something beneath them roared so loud and angry that the ground shook.

 Apparently Arthur’s spell had hit home. The branches in the clearing shot up and madly swirled about, obstructing their view slightly.

Arthur all but dragged him away from the scene, in time for the branches to start slamming down at the ground where they stood previously. He heard shouts from the other side (as well as cackling laughter, which was more than a little disturbing), but didn’t look as he instead focused on doing his best to run away with the mage.

With each step however, the pain worsened, and after five minutes or so he cried out as he put too much weight on his pained leg. Arthur was almost dragged to the ground with him when Alfred’s leg gave out underneath him, and cursed.

“Alfred, damn it, look at me. _Keep going._ ”

Alfred nodded and tried to stand up, but for some reason the pain shot up through his legs, to his stomach and chest area, and he cried out again, falling down on the ground. He heard Arthur curse some more, hearing the thud of his knees as Arthur sat down next to him, nimble hands prodding at his leg.

It hurt way more than it should, Alfred realized. He had never been hit with an arrow, but this was not normal. Breathing started to get difficult as the realisation it was probably a poisoned arrow, and he started panicking.

Managing to peek through his eyes, which he had clenched shut as a wave of pain rode through him, he noticed Arthur moving his lips – but he couldn’t hear what he was saying, and he couldn’t read it either.

A green, almost angelic kind of light, surrounded Arthur. Out of nowhere, the pain stopped, making place for a sluggish kind of feeling. He blinked and opened his mouth but found he couldn’t form words, as if his tongue was too heavy for his mouth, and with difficulty he read the next words on Arthur’s lips.

“I’m sorry.”

A bright light invaded his head, and everything went dark.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update will be a while longer, so sorry in advance. But don't worry, I got a beast of a story planned out. Enjoy!

The first thing that Alfred noticed when he slowly regained consciousness, was a dull ache in one of his legs. A quick check assured him that everything was in working order however.

The second thing he noticed was the _headache._ He could only compare it to the one time he had a hangover, when he went illegally drinking with his brother when they turned sixteen.

And finally he noticed the queasiness and sluggishness, which made him want to throw up. Keeping his eyes shut initially, he made a face as he forced the bile back down his throat. It took him a few seconds of some breathing exercises until he felt less sick, and he sighed as finally his stomach seemed to calm down.

The longer he was awake however, the more the throbbing ache in his leg started getting noticeable. Instinctively he turned to roll on his side and dragged his injured leg up a little, as if to protect it.

Rolling his face sideways resulted into his cheek pressing into the cool dirt below, and he sighed pleasantly as it cooled his skin. Something was lying down on him, something heavy and warm and scratchy, and he pushed it off slightly to get some cool air.

“Aye! I think the bugger is awake.”

Alfred froze. That was _not_ Arthur’s voice.

“Where’s Artie?” A second voice asked.

“I dinna ken.” He heard a slap and an annoyed groan.

“Damn it Alistair, stop it with the stupid accent already.” A _third_ voice?

Keeping as silent as he could, he listened to the three voices bicker amongst each other. One of them spoke with such a strange accent that it was difficult for Alfred to comprehend. The other two sounded perfectly normal, although their voices were slightly lilted and musical-like.

Cracking one eye open, he noticed they must be behind him, for he was watching the flat of a stone wall ahead of him. He reasoned he was in a cave of some sorts, because he was definitely still in the forest when he passed out.

It was silent behind him and he heard rustling, as if a lot of plants were being moved by wind or something. Steeling his nerves (and his stomach), Alfred turned on his back once more and sat up on his elbows, seeking out the sources of the voices.

A few feet from where he was lying, stood three odd creatures. They were taller than the average child, though certainly shorter than him and perhaps even Arthur. Two of them had brown hair and the third had dark red hair. They all had incredibly light green eyes.

The oddest thing, perhaps, was that they were _covered_ in moss, twigs, leaves and whatnot. That must have been the rustling of plants he heard earlier. He realized the vegetation on their body functioned as clothing, though their skin did not share the same tint as any kind of human.

Instead of the tints Alfred was used to on humans, their skin seemed more greenish, some areas reminding him of the bark of a tree.

“I’d say he’s awake.” The one with the light brown hair said with a flat look.

As if on cue, the other two turned around to look at him more closely. Watching their skin move so oddly, the plants on their bodies moving along with their muscles, struck Alfred in the entire wrong way. Their eyes glowed a little, though not similar to Arthur’s eyes when he was conjuring spells. It was more a light-in-the-dark kind of glow.

Alfred yelped and crawled back the same time the red-haired one approached him, remembering the horrific tales about forest-beings. These creatures were obviously not humans, so that meant they were enchanted beings, and well, who knew what they were capable of.

“Alistair…” The dark brown haired _thing_ said with a warning tone, and the red head in front of him (Alistair?) laughed tauntingly.

“Guid efternuin ta ya, boy. Name’s Alistair. A'm pleased tae meet ye.”

He held out a leaf-covered arm then, his hand sticking out in greeting. Alfred looked at it with wide eyes – the leaves rustled, and there were tiny little vines growing out of the man’s hand, what the _hell_ -

“Arthur told us not to scare him.”

“Artie can bit me arse.”

Alfred gulped as he watched the creatures in front of him interact. They were not being overly threatening per se, and they were talking about Arthur as if they knew him. Therefore they were probably not dangerous… right?

“Whe-“ His voice cracked, and he frowned as he cleared his throat. “Where’s Arthur?” He looked at the dark-brown haired one, who for some reason seemed as if he was most trustworthy.

“Out. He’ll be back soon.”

Well, that was helpful. Nobody introduced themselves either, and after blatantly staring at the three of them (they returned the favour, so at least he wasn’t being rude), Alfred managed to calm his nerves a bit.

“Who are you guys?” He finally demanded.

“A’m Alistair!” The red haired spoke up loudly. “These be my brothers, Seamus and wee Dylan.”

“I am not wee, you moron. And stop talking in that silly accent before I slap it out of you.” The light-haired brunette, Dylan, went completely ignored by Alistair, whom turned back to Alfred.

Watching with curiosity, the red haired creature edged closer to Alfred. Alfred resisted the urge to crawl backwards, but his disdain was probably clear on his face, for the more responsible looking of the three (Seamus?) spoke up with a sigh.

“Alistair, stop freaking him out.”

“Am no! Buzz kill. ‘s Not every day we meet a human.”

“I thought you guys knew Arthur?” Alfred asked, thoroughly confused. He was about ninety-nine per cent sure Arthur was a human, after all. Alistair moved his leafy hand in the air, as if waving away the thought.

“Aye, aye, but he be more like a wee brother.”

_What._

A brother? Did Arthur consider these people family? What was going on? Alfred had trouble finding out what this meant. Did this mean Arthur wasn’t lying when he said he had always lived in the forest?

“Whaur ar ye fae? Ye don’t look familiar. Hoo long have ya been here?”

At Alfred’s lost look, Alistair looked a little annoyed. One of the others (Dylan?) rolled his eyes and approached, kicking Alistair away.

 “I told you, no one can understand you when you are talking like that. Honestly, this better be just a phase.” Turning back to Alfred, he explained. “Where are you from? We don’t remember seeing you before.”

Alfred subconsciously focused his attention on the area of his mark – his shirt was still covering it, so they have probably not seen. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“What did Arthur tell you?”

Alistair snorted, but it was Seamus who replied. “Next to nothing. Summoned us and ordered us to help carry you to safety. I swear the next time he acts all high and mighty I am going to-“

“Shut up, Seamus.” Dylan interrupted with a glare. “Don’t act all tough while you’re the one who practically threw himself at Arthur in worry.”

“Did not!”

“Anyway,” Dylan continued, turning back to Alfred. “Arthur told us you two were in a bit of a situation. We helped transport you to safety, and he told us to guard you whilst he set up some barriers. He should be back soon.”

“Oh.” Alfred replied smartly.

That means he might not even have been out of it for too long. At Dylan’s raised eyebrows (which were thankfully not made of plants and he was still rather freaked out about their appearances), he remembered the question.

“I’m Alfred. I’m, eh, from Spades.” He wondered if they even knew what Spades was.

“Spades?” Seamus asked curiously. “You’re closer to Diamonds.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Alfred said with a sheepish smile, willing himself to relax in the presence of what were obviously friends of Arthur. “I’m on the run, and Diamonds was the nearest safe place.”

Immediately, the demeanour of all three creatures changed. Alfred could only describe it as being on guard, their shoulders tensing and their eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“On the run? Why is that?” Dylan asked, his voice tightly clipped, Alistair crouching down as if he were ready to jump at something. Behind Dylan he noticed Seamus moving to block the exit of the cave, drawing to full height (which was still not as tall as Alfred, but threatening enough).

In a snap, Alfred realized they were being protective. Probably of Arthur.

 _Oh crap_. He didn’t know what these creatures were or what they were capable of, and he didn’t want to risk their wrath. Especially not now that he was already injured and exhausted.

He felt words die on his throat, however, as he looked at the three of them, leaves rustling and eyes practically glowing. It occurred to him that these creatures were not just enchanted, but probably possessed quite a bit of magic too.

And there were _three_ of them, versus one, plain human.

“I am gone for _one_ hour and I find you three ready to ambush him?” An exasperated voice called, and Alfred wanted to cry with relief.

He tore his eyes from Dylan’s glowing ones and watched as Arthur walked into the cave, the entrance being covered by a few vines and leaves. He was leaning on his staff rather heavily, an exhausted expression on his face. Alfred felt a spike of worry as he watched Arthur all but tumble inside, swatting at Seamus who wanted to grab his elbow and help.

“You didn’t say he was a fugitive.” Dylan chided, turning away from Alfred to glare at the mage.

“He is not that kind of fugitive.” Arthur dismissed.

Alfred only then noticed the man was missing his cloak, and abruptly realized that the itchy cloth that had been covering him had been that piece of clothing.

He quickly grabbed it from where it had fallen down next to him and dusted it off, hoping he didn’t dirty it too much. Arthur slowly walked over to where he was still half-lying down, before all but dropping down in a sitting position a foot or so away from him.

“Ye look ‘orrible, Artie! Outta practice?”

“Sod off, wanker.”

“Do you want us to test your barriers? Just in case?” Dylan eventually asked, keeping a cautious look on Alfred.  Arthur nodded thankfully, and Alfred watched as the three creatures slowly made for the exit. Just before he exited however, Alistair turned around and pointed two fingers to his eyes and back to Alfred.

Alfred resisted laughing hysterically. Apparently they didn’t trust him, but they trusted Arthur enough to be alone with Alfred.

He waited ten seconds, hoping they were out of ear shot, before focusing on his tired friend once more.

“What _are_ they? _Who_ are they? Where did they come from? How can I see them?” He knew he was asking too many questions at once, and acutely stopped when a searing pain from his injury shot up towards his leg with an overly enthusiastic gesture of his arms.

Alfred groaned and bent forward, tugging the fabric of his pants away (and hissing as it was apparently stuck in one place) to see a nasty looking wound. There was a salve smeared on top of it, and it smelled absolutely foul.

Immediately Arthur sat back up, leaning over the wound. Alfred watched as Arthur swatted his hands away and rolled the fabric up his leg more properly, so that his wound had more space.  

“The salve will stop it from getting infected.” Arthur said after a quick inspection. “I’ll reapply it in a few hours.”

“Why did I pass out?”

Arthur sighed, sitting back down. “It was poisoned with some sort of magic. Your body shut down, and to prevent you from going into shock, I knocked you out.”

“Thanks.” Alfred said, after a while. Arthur nodded at him, shrugging slightly, as if he didn’t think it was such a big deal. The mage just saved his life, _again_. Alfred wondered how big his debt to this man was, already.

“The poison should be out of your system, but I would not put too much weight on your leg for the time being.”

“Thank you, Arthur.” Alfred repeated, reaching over to gently touch Arthur’s shoulder and grabbing his attention. “I- Frankly said I’d probably be dead ten times by now, if it weren’t for you. I don’t know how to repay you properly.”

Arthur appeared kind of stunned for a moment, Alfred quickly retracting his hand and feeling his face heat up at the bewildered expression on the other’s face. The mage quickly recovered though, averting his eyes as a red hue dusted his cheeks lightly.

“I just did what is right.” He muttered. “Think nothing of it.”

Alfred wanted to protest that it _was_ kind of a big deal, but instead bit his tongue. He didn’t really feel the need to get into a silly argument at the moment, as it was clear Arthur had exhausted himself using his magic to conjure barriers. Alfred felt pretty tired himself, too, despite having slept for a while. Or, being unconscious for a while.

“Can I see it?” Arthur eventually asked, and Alfred snapped out of his daydreaming with a frown. Upon Alfred’s confused expression, Arthur looked a little embarrassed as he gestured. “Your mark.”

“My mark?” Alfred asked out loud. He shrugged – he was confused as to why Arthur would want to see it, but he had already seen it and no weird creature was in sight, so he tugged his shirt down for Arthur to see. And if Arthur wanted to see his mark as some kind of repayment for his help, then Alfred would let him have such a small thing.

Arthur leant in a little to see it better. The scrutiny made Alfred’s face heat up once more. He quickly averted his eyes from Arthur’s curious ones, instead looking at the wall in front of him. He noticed Arthur’s hand twitching slightly, however, and smiled.

“You can touch it, if you want.” He didn’t know _why_ Arthur would want to touch it, but perhaps he just wanted to feel the texture or something. Alfred knew it felt odd on his skin, the skin slightly swollen, as if it were a scar.

 Apparently that was exactly what Arthur had been waiting for, and tentatively he raised a hand.

The tips of Arthur’s fingers connected with the skin just next to the mark and Alfred resisted jolting from the sudden touch. The mage’s fingers were surprisingly warm and soft, despite also being quite calloused.

 Alfred watched with the same amount of curiosity as Arthur dragged them over one of the lines of his mark. Arthur’s fingers traced the lines towards the large Spade symbol in the middle, resting there for a moment, when a strange feeling hit Alfred.

The area of his mark was getting increasingly hotter, the feeling spreading out into his limbs making him feel pleasant overall. The pain was but a distant, dull ache, and his eyes drooped shut halfway as he let out a satisfied sigh. Ignoring the fact that it wasn’t normal to feel so hot and bothered in a pleasant way, Alfred leant his chest upwards, into Arthur’s hand.

Arthur, noticing the reaction, took his hand back as if he had touched fire, his eyes wide with confusion.

“What the hell?” Alfred said – when Arthur took his hand back, the feeling disappeared like snow for the sun. That had never happened before. Sure, not many people ever touched his mark – only his mother and brother had touched it once or twice, aside from himself. But he never had that reaction.

Perhaps it was because Arthur was not family. He told Arthur as much, and Arthur nodded, voicing his agreement. After all, Arthur knew next to nothing about the marks, and Alfred wasn’t really an expert either.

“Perhaps Seamus will know more about it. Though I don’t know if you want to tell them your identity.”

“Who are they anyway? And what are they?” Alfred asked, having gathered his thoughts again.

Arthur looked hesitant for a moment, looking back at the entrance to see if they had returned yet. Alfred knew however, by the look on Arthur’s face, that he was in a sharing mood. But he was also exhausted, so prying wasn’t going to do any good. He patiently waited for Arthur to figure out whether or not he wanted to share the information.

“I…” Arthur started, clearly uncomfortable. “I wasn’t born in the forest.”

 _No shit_ , Alfred wanted to say. He clearly transferred the message by giving Arthur a flat look, however, and Arthur offered a half-hearted glare.

“I was born just outside of it, in Spades. When I was six, my parents died, and I was sent to live in an orphanage. They wanted to send me to a cloister in Hearts for having magic, when I was eight. I ran. That’s the short version, anyway.”

Alfred frowned. A cloister? Did people even still do that?

Sure, there were still a lot people who didn’t favour having a child with magic, but still. That was kind of extreme. Though this was an orphanage he was talking about. Perhaps they just wanted to empty the building out a little. Alfred wondered if there was a big orphan problem in Spades – he had never heard about it.

Another thing he might have to address at court. In a fit of protectiveness, he decided he’d also check for situations such as the one Arthur had just told. If he was King, he was going to make sure no child with magic would feel unwanted.

Perhaps, with the help of Matthew, he could create some kind of safe place for them. A school or something. He wondered why no such thing had been created already. Well, they have, those were the cloisters Arthur talked about. But Alfred knew they were strict and not entirely pleasant.

Matthew had been terrified as a child to have been sent there, despite his parents loving him the same with or without magic and reassuring him of this.

“The forest was the easiest option.” Arthur continued, grabbing Alfred’s attention back.

“I was not aware of how dangerous it was.” He said with a small, bitter sounding laugh. “But for some reason I was not attacked by anything. Perhaps the forest knew I was only a child. Perhaps it was my magic.”

“But you were eight?” Alfred couldn’t imagine his eight-year-old-self running away from home and living in a forest like this.

“Yes, and whilst I was not attacked, I did not know how to care for myself. Cue those creatures you just met. They are… simply said, they are an unusual sort of nature fairy. Typically they are gentle creatures. Though they can be right pains in the arse, too.”

Arthur sighed at the apparent memory, relaxing a little more as he was revealing the tale. Alfred kept dead silent, fearing any comment might break the moment Arthur was having. This was the most personal information he had gotten out of him, _ever_.

“They taught me all I know, so I guess I owe them. Seamus is the oldest of them. He was born during the Suits regency.”

Shit, that meant he was _old_.

That kind of explained how Arthur knew random bits of information about Suits that Alfred had never read about, though. Actually, it explained a lot of things. If those three… fairies… raised Arthur from when he was eight, they probably shared a lot of their knowledge with him.

And if Seamus was from the Suits regency – that meant Seamus probably knew all there was about the history of the kingdoms. Though he wondered, did they ever leave the forest? He doubted a fairy such as those three could walk the streets of the kingdoms with no trouble.

 Perhaps that explained why Arthur did not know much about anything beyond what he experienced as a child.

“So they’re kind of like your brothers?”

“I suppose. Once I was old and wise enough to take care of myself, they left me to it, so I’ve hardly seen them the past few years. They always come when I need them, though.” Arthur said, and the tiredness in his voice signalled the conversation was going to be over.

Alfred didn’t blame him – he looked as if he were going to pass out, after all.

“You should sleep.”

“I wish to wait until I am sure of my barriers.” Arthur said, yawning nonetheless. “Joker or not, that mage seemed powerful. I have no idea if I have successfully delayed them or not.”

“I’ll wake you up if something is wrong with the barriers. And I’m sure those three can look out for themselves.” Alfred replied stubbornly. He promptly handed over the cloak that he had folded on his lap to Arthur. “So go catch some shut-eye, okay?”

Arthur glared at him, but took the cloak anyway. He positioned it behind him, having it function as a pillow instead of a blanket. Lying down on his side, back turned to the entrance and facing Alfred, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the fabric of his cloak.

Alfred smiled at the sight, allowing himself to stare for a while. He really did appear exhausted – there were lines around Arthur’s eyes, as well as bags underneath them, and his eyebrows were scrunched together lightly. His face was paler than usual, which signalled he definitely needed the rest.

It must have been five minutes before he lied down once more as well, facing Arthur. They were pretty close, and Alfred could feel warm puffs of air only just reaching his face softly. Arthur still had his brows furrowed together, and hoping that he wouldn’t wake the other up, Alfred reached out to brush a few hairs out of Arthur’s face.

He smoothed them down a little and threaded his fingers through the blonde locks, riveting in how Arthur’s face seemed to relax.

Somehow, the fact that Arthur clearly trusted him enough to fall asleep next to him, made Alfred’s stomach jump.

That realization made him frown however. This innocent hero-complex crush he had on the mage seemed to transform into something more right underneath his nose. And even though Alfred believed he cared more for Arthur as a friend, initially, it could still sting.

After all, in a few days, they would reach Diamonds, and Arthur would leave him.

Having spent almost twenty days with the man had made him grown attached, Alfred realized. Perhaps it had something to do with Alfred’s own isolation, too. He had been nowhere near as lonely as Arthur  might have been whilst growing up, but still, he had been more isolated than other children his age.

He faintly wondered if Arthur felt the same about them having to part soon. Surely Arthur saw the benefits of travelling with someone, of having companions? Well, he _had_ companions, Alfred reminded himself. Companions that didn’t show themselves to Alfred, aside from the weird trio he just met.

Alfred sighed and took his hand back, rolling on his back and watching at the ceiling of the cave. Some part of him wanted to say fuck it, and stay with Arthur in the forest, for reasons unknown. But he had a duty, and he really had to start acting like the next King of Spades.

The sooner he could get to Diamonds, the sooner he would know about the current situation, and the sooner he could see his family again.

Perhaps he could still convince Arthur to come along, once the time came.

The peaceful, relaxing moment was shattered when the three fairies walked back into the cave. They were silent, as if having sensed Arthur was sleeping.  Realizing they probably wanted some explanation, Alfred sat back up again, eyeing them cautiously.

They were eyeing him with equal suspicion however. The oldest looking one, Seamus, dumped bags full of stuff (food, Alfred realized) on the ground and sat down to inspect it. Alistair muttered something about getting some water and disappeared, and Dylan approached him.

He sat behind Arthur’s back, glaring at Alfred almost threateningly. Alfred smiled at the protectiveness apparent in the other’s expression, watching as Dylan rested a hand on Arthur’s side. A soft, blue light appeared, wrapping around Arthur. He heard a sigh coming from Arthur as his expression relaxed again.

“So who are you?” Dylan asked casually. “And what are you doing here?”

Alfred took a chance on this one – it seemed Arthur trusted them, so he could probably trust them too. After all, Arthur had no qualms with Alfred telling or not-telling them his identity. For the second time that day, he reached up to drag his shirt down, revealing the Spades mark on his chest.

Comprehension dawned on Dylan’s face, who cocked his head slightly as his glowing eyes took in the shape of the mark. “A King’s mark?” He guessed eventually, and Alfred nodded.

“My name’s Alfred Jones.” He repeated. “And I ran because the Spades King was murdered by someone from Clubs. Reaching the capitol was an impossible task, so I ended up in the forest. Arthur is helping me reach Diamonds so that I could return safely.”

“That makes sense.” Dylan said after a while, looking down to the blonde mage. “Arthur always had a weakness for fairy tales.” Alfred had no idea what he meant with that, but sure, okay. “Are those men who are chasing you from Clubs, then?”

“I think so, yes. Though they have a mage with them, one who does not wear any of the kingdom’s colours. Arthur and I think he might be a Joker.”

“The Joker? Odd. Is Arthur coming with you, to Diamonds?” The change of subject was a bit sudden, and Alfred was momentarily caught off guard. Apparently Dylan wasn’t at all impressed or surprised about the fact that the mage might be a Joker, and he wondered if he knew more than he let on.

Or perhaps he had been reading Alfred’s mind the past hour (about Arthur), which creeped him out even more. He felt his face heat a little as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“I don’t know, I haven’t asked. I mean, I guess I kinda think he is going to stay here, no?”

Dylan shrugged. “I don’t know. Arthur was always troubled when it came to returning to the civilised world. When we met him, we tried to help him to other kingdoms, but he always returned after a few weeks. He never fit in anywhere, he said.”

Huh. Another piece of information about Arthur that Alfred hadn’t known about. He carefully stored it away – perhaps that was why Arthur knew random things about every kingdom.

Alistair took that moment to return, sitting down next to Dylan. His eyes zeroed in almost immediately on where Alfred’s shirt was still sagged down a little, the top half of the mark still visible. The change of emotions on Alistair’s face was pretty hilarious – it went from confusion, to suspicion, to shock, to amusement – all in the span of one or two seconds.

He opened his mouth whilst looking at Dylan to announce something, but was promptly shut up by the fiercest of glares from the other. Instead, Alistair grumbled and rolled his eyes, before passing Arthur’s flask over to Alfred.

“Thanks.” Alfred gratefully took it, realizing his throat felt quite parched. He drank a bit from it, mindful of saving some for the mage next to him.

“You should sleep some more.” Seamus’ voice travelled over to them. “We’ll watch over the two of you for now. It’s almost night, anyway.”

Alfred nodded, knowing he was still pretty exhausted himself. The lack of cloak meant that he might be in for a cold night, but he didn’t care and instead lied down on his side again, favouring his injured leg. For a feel of comfort and safety, he lied down facing Arthur, and subsequently the entrance to the cave.

He noticed Dylan and Alistair leaving them and joining the other fairy, and heard them talk underneath their breaths to one another.

Alfred made no effort to listen in on them – frankly said, he was too tired to really care. For now, it seemed they were trustworthy. Or well, they wouldn’t hurt them or let them be hurt. Arthur, specifically. Perhaps they would also protect him because Arthur wanted that.

He sighed at himself and instead opted to stare at Arthur’s face as he waited for sleep to come to him. Apparently whatever Dylan had did to Arthur had offered a great deal of comfort to the mage, as Arthur’s face was completely relaxed.

Alfred resisted the urge to giggle – Arthur almost looked like a child, so very innocent.  Gone was the tight set of lines Arthur seemed to carry on his face every day. With his eyes closed, there was no suspicious or unreadable glint in his eyes. Sure, there was no smile, which was sad, but there was also no scowl.

He felt the corners of his lips tug upwards slightly as he drank in the sight of the other man, before thinking more sullen thoughts again – mainly how he and Arthur were going to part from each other soon and never see each other again.

Willing any negative thought away, Alfred forced his eyes closed and gradually let sleep take him once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dinna ken – I don’t know  
> Guid efternuin – good morning  
> A'm pleased tae meet ye – Pleased to meet you  
> Whaur ar ye fae? – where are you from?
> 
> The Kirkland brothers were inspired by Ghillie Dhu’s, solitary male fearies that were kind and had a gentle devotion to children. They were typically dark haired and clothed in leaves and moss. They’re Scottish mythical creatures so I figured they fit perfectly!


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with this chapter for some reason, ugh. But I needed it to progress, lol.

“I spy with my little eye… something green.”

The sound that escaped Arthur’s throat was positively terrible, a mixture of a sarcastic laugh with a snort and it reminded Alfred of a piglet.

Alfred turned and laughed at the horrified expression Arthur wore immediately after he realized what sound he had produced.

“Dude! You totally sounded like- woah!” Alfred was about to voice what he had been comparing Arthur to (which might have been a bad idea, so he was kind of grateful that he was interrupted), when he put a little too much weight on his still tender leg and stumbled backwards.

Narrowly avoiding falling down on his butt, Alfred jerked his leg up and down a few times to get the straining feeling out of the muscles. At the jerky movements, Arthur looked slightly concerned, but Alfred offered a thumbs up with a big grin.

“Something green, Artie, you’re never going to guess this one.”

“It’s _Arthur_.” Arthur scolded with an annoyed glare. “Is it that tree?” He didn’t even bother pointing at one.

“Correct! You’re so good at this. Okay, next… I spy with my little eye… something _green_.”

He had been repeating the same sentence for ten minutes now, and noticed Arthur had finally had enough, the irritated cheek-biting turning into a full-blown scowl.

“For heaven’s sake Alfred, shut your mouth if you have nothing to say!”

“What? How are you going to enjoy the melody that is my voice if I do that!”

There was an explanation behind Alfred’s kind of annoying, overly excited behaviour of course.

They had been walking the better part of the day already, and soon they would make camp somewhere. Alfred was exhausted, both from their trip and from the still healing injury on his leg (though it was more like a cramp now).

He knew however, that Arthur was as exhausted as him, what with constantly setting barriers and barely sleeping at all, out of paranoia of their chasers. Really, it should be Alfred who would be paranoid, but nope, he slept soundly.

That kind of made him feel guilty, and he offered to switch places so that _he_ would stay up all night to keep guard, but Arthur wasn’t sleeping much either way, so that tactic wasn’t very useful.

Alfred had kept silent too, the first day, allowing Arthur peace of mind. Which had also been the _wrong_ thing to do, because Arthur fretted over him more than usual and was constantly on edge or panicky about their surroundings.

Thus operation act-like-an-idiot to get Arthur’s mind off of any potential danger had started. So far it went good, though Alfred had to be careful about Arthur’s breaking points. He didn’t want Arthur to abandon him or worse, start crying or something. That would be terrifying.

Arthur glared at him with a heat that told Alfred, that for the next hour or so, he would be the only thing on Arthur’s mind (though perhaps not in the way that he wanted to), so he relented for a while and turned his attention back to their walking.

It hasn’t been more than four days since they left the cave and subsequently said goodbye to Arthur’s ‘sort-of’ brothers.

Alfred wondered if he was ever going to see them again. Aside from their initial suspicion and distrust, they were pretty decent to hang out with. They had resided in that cave for another day, having been reassured that the trio would lead their chasers astray.

Once you got used to them, they were pretty hilarious. Watching them bicker with Arthur was the best, though they often did it in the same language that Arthur used for conjuring spells, so that Alfred couldn’t understand it.

Still, the embarrassed look on Arthur’s face… hilarious. At first he kind of felt bad for Arthur and wanted to defend him, but eventually he noticed Arthur didn’t mind all _that_ much, a fond smile creeping on his face when the other creatures were not looking.

And despite the anxious, panicky behaviour Arthur was displaying, despite since occasionally stumbling upon evidence of their chasers ever since they left that cave… something had shifted between them since that night.

For one, Arthur swallowed a lot more of Alfred’s tedious behaviour than he did first, often offering wry smiles or exasperated glances instead of glares and shouts. They talked more too, and had more civil conversations.

First it was mostly Alfred talking about trivial stuff or about his home and family, now it was also Arthur sharing comparable memories.

And then there was the _touching,_ oh Alfred loved the touching. Every time they would round a difficult corner, had to climb something, cross a tree that functioned as a bridge, you name it – Arthur would grab his hand or arm to help.

Apparently Arthur was under the impression his leg still hurt more than it actually did.

And whilst Alfred made sure Arthur wasn’t _really_ worrying, he was definitely also faking jerking movements or insecurity about climbing or crossing unstable things.

They slept closer – or well, Alfred slept, Arthur just sat – to one another too, Arthur mumbling that it was easier to preserve magic and share some body heat. Alfred accepted it and he hoped dearly that Arthur meant something else entirely.

Lord, he had such a crush on the mage. It was pathetic.

Unabashed, Alfred let his eyes wander over to his companion, who was walking next to him. Arthur wasn’t actually minding where he was walking, instead looking down slightly as he counted something he stored in his pouch, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Despite the lack of rest, the mage still looked magnificent. His skin was a little paler than normal (which was quite a feat), and there were the tiniest of bags underneath his eyes. But his eyes still shone bright and his smiles still sent butterflies to Alfred’s stomach, and that was what mattered.

Though he was definitely going to try and get the mage to sleep some more after today. He was fairly certain humans could only go for so long without sleep before they would start to hallucinate, and frankly said, he didn’t enjoy the prospect of a hallucinating mage.

Perhaps it’d help if they managed to find a somewhat secluded spot, like that cave they had been in. At least then you only had to focus on _one_ exit. He had already asked if there were any more old Suits buildings in their direction, to which Arthur claimed that he wasn’t entirely sure. He hadn’t visited this part of the forest in a few years, and whilst he knew the route and the safest way, he wasn’t sure if there had been any buildings left that were still safe to enter.

Alfred bit his cheek as he thought about one of their conversations the day before. Arthur told him little bits of information about Suits, things that Seamus had told him before. He had a pretty solid image of what the old palace would look like, though he still feverishly wanted to see the real place sometime.

To which Arthur had replied that should Alfred ever return to the forest, Arthur would gladly show him.

And that kind of soured Alfred’s mood, because that could be taken as in Arthur being determined not to come along to Diamonds with him. Though Alfred wondered – wouldn’t it be easy to convince him, what with the danger in the forest? Arthur wouldn’t want to be here alone if there was such danger chasing them, right?

On the other hand, without Alfred, Arthur was probably easier off. He was fairly sure he could easily hide or run on his own, knowing the forest from the back of his hand. He could probably even play it so that the plants wouldn’t attack him, but his enemy.

However, now that Alfred was here, Arthur had to focus on not only keeping himself but also _him_ safe.

Alfred wished there was just a way that he could do the same, but who was he kidding? Should they stumble upon the Joker or mage, he was probably going to have to rely on Arthur. Sure, he was pretty mean in a fist fight, so mercenaries didn’t have to be very big problems (even if he didn’t have a weapon). But magic… well, he would be fucked.

“There is a stream nearby, we should refill the flask.” Arthur muttered next to him, and Alfred nodded whilst still deep in thought.

It was so that he didn’t notice Arthur sidestepping away from him to take off in another direction, and before he knew it, he was alone.

Alfred blanched, taking back five steps and wildly looking around. It hadn’t been more than a half a minute since Arthur had announced their stop to the river… How far could he be?

Yet the vegetation around them was dense. Alfred cursed – Arthur must have taken a right, or he would have had to cross in front of Alfred. He saw a path to the right and took it, walking a little faster than normal in hopes of catching up to Arthur.

Seconds ticked away but it felt like hours and he couldn’t find the blonde mage. Alfred felt the slow rise of panic starting in his chest, mentally berating himself for having lost focus.

He called out Arthur’s name a few times, first questioningly and with a low voice, before raising volume a little bit. He didn’t want to be too loud however, and frowned when there was no response.

Well. This was it, then. Alfred was going to get lost and probably die before he found his way out of the forest. Man, he really should have paid more attention to what kind of food was edible or not because he didn’t have-

“Watch out!”

A solid mass of body crashed into him and had him stumbling to his side, tripping and falling down ungracefully. Alfred spluttered in surprise (being relieved beyond knowing when the dark green cloak that belong to Arthur fluttered at his legs), sitting up just in time to watch Arthur wrestling his arm loose from a sticky vine that had shot out of a plant to grab at them.

Arthur cursed angrily and shot a blast of green light out of the palm of his previously captured hand, the energy hitting the open space that had to be the mouth of the plant right in the middle. There was a sizzling noise and a horrible smell as the plant screeched and shrivelled in itself.

Alfred quickly scrambled up as Arthur sent him a disapproving glance, cradling his arm closer to his chest.

“I told you to keep up!” Arthur sneered – though his angry expression immediately melted into guilt and worry. “Oh wait, was it your leg? I’m sorry. I was unfocused, I should have paid more attention.”

“No! Dude, it was totally my fault. I zoned out and lost you.” Alfred quickly interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Great, Arthur had to save his arse _again._ Alfred felt more and more useless with each dangerous encounter, and he scowled at the offensive plant.

Then he noticed the way Arthur was favouring his arm, the fabric of his sleeve having charred lightly. He reached out for it but Arthur flinched away from him, rolling his eyes at Alfred’s questioning glance. Arthur gently rolled his sleeve up towards his elbow to show Alfred the damage – an angry, red rash sat upon Arthur’s pale skin, blisters forming where the plant had grabbed onto him.

_Double great._ So not only did Arthur had to save Alfred’s ass again, he also got hurt in the progress.

“I’m so sorry.” Alfred immediately said, grimacing at the angry red skin on the other’s arm.

“It’s not lethal.” Arthur commented, but that didn’t make Alfred feel better at all. Arthur’s expression was one of discomfort, and how could a nasty looking thing like that not hurt? “Let’s just go to the stream. The sooner I wash the juices of, the better.”

Alfred obediently followed Arthur, keeping a close eye on the mage as they reached the stream not ten minutes later. Arthur removed his cape and sat down at the stream gingerly, lowering his hurt arm in the water and hissing at the coolness of it.

“We should rest for a bit.” Alfred mentioned, leaning down to grab Arthur’s flask before filling it with water. “We can afford a small break, right?”

Arthur looked hesitant, but nodded nonetheless. “Do you wish to wash up, then?”

That _did_ sound inviting. Alfred was sure his mother would have a field day with how dirty he probably was right now. Alfred didn’t even notice anymore that he was still wearing the same old clothes from when he first ran from home, charred slightly from Arthur’s failed fire experiment.

Deciding it would be a good idea to at least dump himself in the water for a while, Alfred nodded and gingerly began to remove his clothing. He wouldn’t wash those, because it would take too long for them to dry, but he could at least dunk himself under.

Arthur was pointedly not looking at him as he undressed, focusing on his arm until he heard the splash of water that meant Alfred had wandered in. It wasn’t very deep in the middle, reaching his hipbone or so, so Alfred crouched down until the water hit his collarbone for both cleaning purposes and modesty.

It was _freezing,_ but it already made him feel better.

“You should get in too!” Alfred suggested after a while with a cheeky grin, as Arthur dabbed the wound on his arm dry with his cloak.

“No thanks.” Arthur dryly replied, focusing a bit on conjuring up a healing spell and his arm glowed in gentle green light. “Besides, someone needs to keep watch whilst you play.”

For that comment, Alfred splashed his arms so that a small wave of water hit Arthur on his legs. The mage spluttered, undignified, and Alfred stuck out his tongue.

“Come on, Artie. We got at least a day on them thanks to those guys. Relax a little.”

“That’s what we thought, before, too.” Arthur snidely said, and Alfred realized that that was true. But that was then, and this time those fairies had made _sure_ to lead their chasers in another direction.

“Ask your bunny, then. They’re not nearby.”

Wow, that sounded _so_ strange.

“He’s not here, you dolt.”

“I thought he followed you around? Hey, is he kind of like your familiar?”

“What is a familiar?”

Well, that was odd. Whilst it wasn’t a requirement for every mage to have a familiar, he knew that the mages at court usually had one. To channel their magic or something.

Matthew told him that only stronger mages would have one, for they needed something to balance out their powers, and that for mages such as Matthew it would be unnecessary. His father had once met a mage who had a hawk as a familiar, and the King once talked about an old friend of his with a snake.

“Animals or something that help balance out magic.”

“That’s odd. Why would they need to balance out magic?” Alfred laughed at the genuinely confused expression on Arthur – it was rather endearing.

“I don’t know, I’m not a mage. I think it’s because they’re scared of their magic becoming incontrollable or something?”

“That’s stupid. Magic is as good as your will to wield it. Perhaps they are simply afraid of greed and losing oneself in it.” Well, that all sounds the same to Alfred, so he shrugged. “Though I suppose it is not such a terrible idea. It would be nice to have such a companion, wouldn’t it?”

The loneliness in Arthur’s voice struck him oddly and Alfred wondered if this was the moment he could convince Arthur to come along. But the dreamy look Arthur had in his eyes could be replaced with one of anger if he would reject Alfred, and Alfred was too exhausted to deal with those emotions right now.

Instead, he snuck up towards the mage until he was in hand’s reach, the mage’s concentration not entirely on him until it was too late.

Arthur yelped in alarm as Alfred grabbed hold of the man’s calves and dragged him into the river with him, staff cluttering down on the ground next to the river as Arthur lost his grip on it. He laughed as Arthur was dunked underneath the stream by the way Alfred dragged him in, releasing Arthur quickly so that the mage could resurface.

Arthur looked absolutely livid, and if Alfred was any lesser man he would have said his prayers. Instead of doing so, or apologizing, Alfred waved his arms and sent a splash of water into the other blonde’s face.

“Stop it!” Arthur demanded as Alfred continued with his assault, laughing obnoxiously. The mage crossed his arms and hands in front of his face and trying to escape, stumbling backwards. Alfred wouldn’t have any of that, and grabbed his uninjured arm to tug him back in.

Eventually Arthur saw no other option than to fight back, and with a few mumbles the _mother_ of all waves descended onto Alfred – he was forced underneath the water by the sheer force of it.

Scrambling back up and heaving for breath, he noticed Arthur’s immensely smug expression.

“Holy shit, you play dirty!”

“Well, you deserved it. I hope you know that you are not getting any food tonight, because my pouch is completely drenched.”

Oh, shit.

Worth it, though. Arthur’s face had considerably relaxed a little as he was sent a smug looking smirk. Alfred felt his face heat up a little and cleared his throat in the pretence of removing excess water from his lungs.

Arthur, still fully clothed, probably had the right to be a little angry and sending such a massive wave towards Alfred. At least he had had the opportunity to remove his clothes – though he wondered if Arthur would be capable of drying his clothes by magic (and not setting them on fire), lest he get a cold.

He was about to begin to feel really guilty about his action when Arthur sighed and waded over to him, splashing at his bare chest gently. Alfred noticed the water around him was a little warmer, and for a second he felt disgusted and wanted to accuse Arthur of doing the nasty, before spotting the greenish glow around Arthur’s hands, underneath the water. He was simply warming the water up a little.

He picked a little at his hurt arm and continued healing the skin a little. Alfred, aware of his nakedness and not wanting to embarrass the mage, kept a safe distance whilst eyeing how the skin stitched together.

He wasn’t able to close it completely, but at least it wasn’t an open, icky looking wound anymore. Arthur sighed pleasantly as he finished and stretched his arm a little, surveying his work.

“How far _does_ your magic go?” Alfred asked curiously. “Like, can you bring someone from the dead? Regrow a limb? Build a house?”

“Don’t be absurd.” Arthur replied with a huff of laughter. “I’m not sure myself. Ten years ago it was less powerful, and in ten years it might be more.”

“I can hardly imagine you getting any more powerful.”

That earned another soft laugh. “I am not all powerful Alfred, I think you give me more credit than I am worth.”

Alfred shrugged and sent a cheeky grin towards the other. “I can only compare you to one or two people and my brother.”

“Your brother sounds like he would be a good mage.” Arthur said, nodding. “I would love to meet him one day.”

“You could.” Alfred said, rather hopefully. Because it’s unlikely that Arthur actually thought Alfred would return to the forest bringing his brother, right?

“Perhaps one day.”

They shared a comfortable silence of perhaps a few seconds. Arthur was staring at him hesitantly but fiercely – that was another thing Alfred could appreciate but was also really embarrassed by. Arthur completely lacked any propriety when it came to staring at him or even checking him out. Where Alfred came from that just wasn’t _done_ , but Arthur probably didn’t know any better what with all the strange creatures in the forest.

It gave him a warm feeling though (perhaps Arthur was also attracted to him and perhaps that meant he would come along to Diamonds).

Alfred offered a smirk as he watched green eyes roam over his shoulders and chest, and Arthur coughed while a red hue dusted over his cheeks as he had been caught. Instead of withdrawing, he focused on the bare mark on Alfred’s chest.

“Did it hurt when you got your mark?”

“Not really. It itched and burned a little. It felt more like I chafed the area, y’know?”

 “It is such a strange thing.” Arthur nodded, furrowing his eyebrows a little. “And to have it react so strongly to another’s touch.”

At the word touch, Alfred realized Arthur was awfully close to him (close enough to touch in fact), and his breath hitched a little. He was very aware that he was very much naked, whilst Arthur was completely dressed, and this could get embarrassing really fast.

“Haha, yeah.”

“Though I thought of a theory. Perhaps it is my magic that caused a reaction from your mark. It _is_ a magical thing, so perhaps the energy of your symbol recognized the energy of my magic and simply reacted.”

“Mattie touched it and it never felt weird.” Alfred counteracted. “Though that might be because his magic isn’t as manifested as yours.”

“I want to try something,” Arthur said with a curious, hesitant smile. “Let me touch it?”

Alfred wanted to sing praise to the heavens. Normally he would kind of be apprehensive about people seeing or touching his mark, but this was _Arthur_. They were both still kneeling down so at least Alfred was mostly covered too, so why not?

“Sure.”

He jolted a little as Arthur’s cool, wet hand suddenly landed right on top of his mark, the carefulness of how he did it the first time completely gone. It took perhaps a second before the strange feeling spread across his chest again, making him feel warm and tingly all over.

Alfred slipped his eyes shut and sighed pleasantly, leaning in slightly into the other’s touch.

“I assume that the reaction is the same.” Arthur said softly, amusingly. “I’m channelling all my magic into the contact now. Perhaps if I channel it elsewhere, the feeling lessens.”

Alfred wasn’t entirely aware of what Arthur was saying, was only aware of how _good_ Arthur sounded and how his slightly strange accent sounded like music to his ears. Alfred long since figured he got the accent from the lilting way the creatures in the forest spoke, and it suited Arthur perfectly.

The fingers on his chest twitched a little as they pressed against the skin, and to Alfred it felt like a heavenly massage. He groaned and dropped his head a little – this felt so _blissful,_ so relaxing and warm and –

“Alfred?”

He opened his eyes at the request and found himself bizarrely close to Arthur’s own face, green orbs resembling emeralds staring at him, questioning. Arthur’s eyebrows were still scrunched down in a little frown, the wet locks of his blonde hair matted down on his forehead or sticking out on weird angles.

Arthur was saying something, but Alfred could only focus on the touch on his chest, and his eyes dropped down to Arthur’s lips as they were forming words.

He wasn’t entirely sure _why_ it was a good idea, but it was, and Alfred promptly leaned down to capture those sweet looking lips with his own. He felt Arthur tense in surprise, the twitching of his fingers on his chest stopping immediately as Alfred snuck an arm around Arthur to tug him closer, to press him against his bare chest.

Alfred was pretty sure he died and gone to heaven – Arthur’s lips were perhaps the softest thing he had ever felt, and they tasted of the water they were in and of something so distinctively similar to – to tea or fruit or something sweet.

He groaned as the pressure on his mark worsened, fingers massaging the flesh, and licked at the still-closed lips of his companions in hopes of deepening the kiss.

The moment the sound left his throat however, the pressure on his chest was removed altogether, hands instead coming to his upper arms to push him away. Alfred pouted but relented, the heady feeling in his head slowly clearing out –

Alfred blinked as he felt relatively normal once more. Arthur had turned completely red, it seemed, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears and perhaps even his neck. He still had his hands on Alfred’s upper arms to keep distance between them, chest heaving up and down as the mage took a few deep breaths.

And it sunk in what had happened – and Alfred felt his own face heat up as if he had a fever. Fairly sure he had turned an equal shade of red (and fairly sure that it wasn’t as attractive on him as it was on Arthur), he stumbled back and nearly tripped over his own feet.

Arthur released him and slowly lowered his arms back to his sides, shivering a little from the cold of the water. They stared at each other for what felt like hours before Alfred managed to find his actual voice, and not some high-pitched version of it.

“Eh… I didn’t catch what you said.”

“I- I figured.” Arthur said, but unlike Alfred the mage had still not found his usual voice, the words coming out a little higher than probably intended. Alfred was too embarrassed to point it out, however.

Arthur cleared his throat and immediately averted his eyes from Alfred’s, instead staring at the mark. “I said that… It didn’t seem that your reaction changed once I channelled my magic elsewhere. So that disproves my theory.”

“Right.”

They stood around awkwardly, and Alfred was about to crack some uncomfortable, random joke, when Arthur moved and quickly exited the river. Alfred sighed as he watched Arthur quickly conjuring up a heating spell. Despite obviously being embarrassed, there was no fire, and after a few seconds Arthur was apparently satisfied with the dryness of his clothes.

Alfred followed out and used his shirt to dry himself a little, quickly pulling his underwear, trousers and shoes back on. Arthur wordlessly took his shirt from him and dried that one too, before handing it back.

The awkward silence lasted until they finally settled for the night, both of the men sitting around a small fire Arthur created.

“We’re making good progress.” Arthur said in a small voice, idly poking at the fire with a stick.

“We are?”

“With any luck we reach the border tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good.” Alfred wondered if his voice sounded as sullen as he felt. He knew he had to reach Diamonds, but he kind of didn’t want to. Not if Arthur wasn’t coming along. Arthur still had no idea of his inner conflict, though.

Though after what happened today… “I’m sorry.” Arthur offered him a confused look, so Alfred quickly averted his eyes to elaborate. “About… just now. That wasn’t appropriate.”

“It was because of your mark, right? It’s my fault as well.”

It wasn’t _just_ because of his mark, Alfred wanted to say. Though that was definitely some weird stuff and he was definitely going to ask someone who also had a mark to elaborate later, perhaps a monarch in Diamonds or the Queen or Jack back in Spades. It would be awkward, but what if something was wrong with him?

“So we’re cool?”

Arthur rolled his eyes but nodded.

“Nothing is wrong. You should sleep a little.”

Alfred resisted groaning in exasperation and lied down, pretending not to feel to melancholically elated when roughly fifteen minutes later he felt Arthur placing his coat over him as a blanket.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I've been absent for so long! Summer was killing me, I was so busy. Which is strange because I should be busier now that classes have started again, and yet...  
> anyway, enjoy!

Perhaps it was the awkwardness of what happened the day before, or perhaps it was the prospect of splitting from his companion, but the day after that they hardly talked. Alfred kept sneaking glances but Arthur’s expression was, as usual, unreadable.

He sighed. This wasn’t going the way Alfred wanted it to go. By now he should have convinced Arthur to come along! But he hadn’t even breached the subject, and he was fairly sure that Arthur wasn’t even thinking about it.

They hadn’t taken any kind of break yet, so there hadn’t been a time to breach the subject either. And aside from Arthur muttering to something in the air (probably the bunny, then), they hadn’t spoken a word to each other. Well, aside from a ‘watch your step’, once or twice.

He blamed it on himself too – he shouldn’t have let Arthur touch his mark with the idea of a theory that could explain it. Then he could have at least controlled himself, now he only made a fool out of himself. Arthur seemed to believe it was entirely the mark’s fault too, and Alfred didn’t know whether or not that was a blessing or a curse.

Arthur slowed down eventually, until he was standing still. Alfred noticed it a little late and halted a few steps in front of Arthur, turning around with a frown.

“This is it.” Arthur said as explanation as he waved diagonally in front of them, and momentarily Alfred forgot about his initial sadness.

His eyebrows shot up and he turned back to where he was headed – indeed, through the dense mass of forest, he spotted a sliver of sunlight. Suddenly the need to get out of the claustrophobic place people called the forest grew intense, and he all but stumbled onwards, ignoring the sharp jab that one bad movement of his sore leg brought.

Oh, but to feel the light of the sun on his face again! Alfred couldn’t remember what it felt like. How long had it been? Three weeks, four? It felt like forever.

He was _so_ getting some meat to eat, too. God, his mouth watered just by imagining it. Or a soft bed! He’d probably commit a murder for a soft bed. A bed that didn’t have bits of grass or other plants poking and tickling him, or that wouldn’t leave sand in places he didn’t know sand could reach.

He pushed at the vegetation around him with impatient irritation and just like that, the denseness was gone. A few plants and trees scattered around him still, but in front of him was a clearing much like the one he was in before he entered the forest.

In the distance he could see actual _farms_ – and a village? Diamonds wasn’t much like Spades, then, his own country not having any cities near the forest due to safety reasons.

But it was _life_ , and it was inhabited, and nearby was a stone path instead of dirt – Alfred nearly wanted to drop to his knees to kiss the ground.

And the sunlight! It felt so warm on his skin, even if it had to be nearing the evening again. The air was so different, much lighter to inhale. It was as if stepping out of the denseness of the forest into what slowly would turn into Diamonds country, lifted a coat off of his shoulders. As if there were some magical border that he stepped over.

Judging by the seeming distance between him and the farms and village, he figured he’d still have to walk for at least a day.

“Man, I cannot _wait_ to get an actual bath.”

“I can imagine.”

Arthur’s sympathetic sounding voice snapped him back to his reality so fast, it felt as if he woke up from a dream. Whirling back around he noticed Arthur stood in the shadows of the trees still, as if fearing to leave the density of the forest.

He was once more struck with how perfectly Arthur seemed to fit in with the trees – perhaps if Alfred hadn’t known him and had simply walked past, he wouldn’t even have noticed the mage.

But he did know him, and he did see him, and he definitely noticed the rather forlorn smile Arthur was wearing.

He swallowed heavily and took a step back, towards Arthur.

“Come with me?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Come with me.” Alfred repeated, nodding back towards the village. Arthur scrunched his eyebrows together at that, obviously hesitating over something. “Come with me to the city, and back to Spades.”

Alfred wasn’t crazy – he was sure that the expression Arthur was wearing was real and not imaginative. Arthur was considering the idea, eyes averted from Alfred’s face to the village that seemed to tiny in the distance.

He _knew_ he saw a flicker of something, of perhaps hope, in Arthur’s green eyes. His brows were furrowed down slightly, and Arthur bit the inside of his cheek. He blinked and it seemed to thrust him back into reality.

“I can’t.” Arthur choked out immediately after, sounding as if he weren’t entirely sure himself.

Alfred was nothing if not persistent.

“Why not? Of course you can.”

“Why _not_?” Arthur asked, voice sounding a little hysterical. Alfred frowned at the panicked expression the mage suddenly wore – as if he wanted to flee. “I am an adult, uneducated mage, who knows what I could do or have been up to? I would be captured and perhaps even killed on sight!”

It didn’t sound as if he were done ranting or convincing himself, but Alfred felt the need to interrupt anyway.

 “What? I’m going to be King, Arthur, I won’t let anyone harm or capture you. You could work for me, be my magical advisor or something!”

“So I am supposed to let _you_ take my freedom away, instead of them?”

Alfred winced – okay, maybe the magical advisor thing wasn’t a good comment.

“No! I would never do that to you, Arthur. But you could _help_ – you can teach others like yourself! You don’t have to be alone.”

 _That_ was definitely the wrong thing to say.

Arthur’s hesitant look turned into a defiant glare in the matter of a second, the mage straightening his back slightly.

“I am alone by _choice_. In your beloved Spades I would have been sent off, or indoctrinated or captured. Here I am _free_.”

Apparently Arthur noticed the hurt expression on Alfred’s face and faltered a little – and Alfred felt as if that were kind of justified. After all, Alfred was going to do something about those things the moment he was crowned. He had promised that to Arthur, to Matthew, to himself, to every magical child of Spades.

“There is no place for me there, Alfred. This is for the best.”

“Please, come with me Artie, please.” Alfred pleaded, not having any other arguments other than just needing the mage. But how stupid and hopeless would that sound? And why would Arthur believe that anyway?

He could try a variation of it.

“I- you- you and I- you’re my friend.”

For a second he applauded himself – Arthur seemed hesitant again for a second, making a move as if he wanted to approach Alfred. But then the green eyed man took a deep breath, and took a step back instead, and any hope in Alfred’s chest melted once more.

“You don’t have a lot of time,” Arthur said, his voice sounding strange even to Alfred. “I’ll delay them- but you should hurry. Be safe, Alfred.”

“Arthur-“ Alfred protested, walking back towards the mage and outstretching his arm to do something, to grab onto the mage and- just do _something_. Arthur flinched back even further, disappearing into the trees more and more.

“Don’t _._ I don’t _want_ to go with you Alfred. Just go and let me be once more.”

The finality in Arthur’s voice kind of offended Alfred. It sounded as if the mage wanted to get rid of him, as if all of this had been a nuisance. As he watched Arthur briskly turn around and walking away from him, Alfred realised that he could have just misread everything. It wasn’t as if Arthur was a pro in communicating, having lived by himself all these years.

He looked back to the city with a frown, wondering how bad it would be if he were to follow Arthur back in and try and convince him otherwise. The choice was made for him however, for when he turned back to look again Arthur had disappeared from sight.

He probably would be able to rush into the forest and find traces of him still – but with magic, you’d never know. If Arthur didn’t want to be found, well, Alfred had an inkling of what he’d find – nothing.

Perhaps he had been just a nuisance, then.

And that _hurt_. He took a deep breath as he tried to ignore the weird, thumping feeling in his chest that came with the sound, not to mention sudden, rejection he just had. He felt as if he were alone all over again, and had the strange urge to just cry it out and kick at something, but he was an adult, and he had to act like one.

If Arthur was going to be like that, than so could he.

He was the next king of Spades, damn it. Arthur had no right to treat him like garbage. He should have been honoured!

Alfred scowled as he realised what a load of rubbish that was. He might as well man up and admit to himself he’d miss the other man terribly.

Part of him wanted to call out, demand the truth of how Arthur felt about him, but part of him was more stubborn. He chose that part, for the sake of his own pride and sanity. Steeling his nerves, Alfred turned back to the village and kingdom in front of him…

And was promptly met by a carriage heading his way.

Momentarily forgetting about his grief, Alfred cocked his head – nobody had been around, had there? The carriage was such an obnoxious orange and gold, it was no guessing that it had to be Diamonds’.

Well, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Alfred took a deep breath once more and walked over to the approaching carriage to meet them, noticing there were quite a few guards with it as well. They stopped a few feet away from him still and a few dismounted from their horses.

“Man, am I glad to see you guys!” Alfred said in ways of greeting, offering a sheepish smile. He was being truthful – though Arthur’s face was lovely, it was also good to see other people again. “Could you guys help- wow, wait!”

His inquiry ended in a cry of alarm, as the man drew their arms and pointed them at him.

“What business did you have in the forest?” One demanded from him, an accent ensuring Alfred the man was indeed a Diamonds man.

Alfred realized the truth behind Arthur’s words – people _were_ afraid of uneducated mages showing up from nowhere. And he wasn’t even a mage, he didn’t have a staff or anything. But he supposed that wandering out of the forest might not have been the best approach.

There were a few things he could do, Alfred reasoned. He obviously could use their help, so running or fighting wasn’t an option. He could let himself be captured in hopes of arriving in the palace, but what were the odds?

Besides… Arthur said he was going to delay his chasers. He was probably safe for another few hours. So he chose the least troublesome option, and slowly reached to his chest to tug his shirt down, making no sudden movements that could cause trouble.

Every guard in front of him followed his movement and zeroed in on his mark, postures relaxing a tiny little bit.

“I need to speak with your King.”  
  


* * *

 

Diamonds was _incredible._

On his way to the palace, Alfred had been able to be amazed and entranced by the countryside. He wasn’t even bothered by the duration of the trip, even if his carriage was not really comfortable. It sure beat walking, so he wasn’t going to complain.

The land was every bit the fairy tale that the books and people said it was. The sun shone bright on the fertile grounds of the land, golden colours spreading over the farms and houses brightly.

Apparently it was one of the less-sunnier days too, according to a friendly guard that stayed with him in the carriage. Therefore it was of no surprise to Alfred that most of the workers on the fields had tanned skins, and wore less clothes than people generally did in Spades.

He had never really seen so many bare legs or arms – on women and men alike, and though he supposed it wasn’t very odd, he still had to get used to it. In Spades, people were a lot more prude, and covered themselves a lot more.

But if he thought the country land was magnificent, then the capitol was absolutely _stunning._ It couldn’t compare to Spades’ capitol, because the two places were entirely different, two sides of a coin.

Golden colours were still the theme, as it was the national colour. There was a lot of green too, even in the capitol and amidst the buildings. A large river ran through the middle of the village, children playing in its vicinity. In the capitol, people were more dressed, and they were dressed magnificently, as if they all had somewhere important to be.

Alfred hung out of the carriage and eagerly soaked in all the new impressions, faintly aware he probably looked like a pig in the midst of all this elegance (he really needed a bath with a lot of soap).

With a pang of anxiety and hurt he realized Matthew would love this country, too. And he was going to bring him here, one day, he vowed to himself ( _if he was all right)._ Cursing his traitorous mind, Alfred tried to force any of those thoughts away for now.

The carriage moved slower now that they were in more crowded areas, and a lot of people curiously gazed at the carriage and the strange boy inside of it. Alfred winked and waved at some women who were obviously gossiping about him behind fans, and they giggled at him.

Nobody knew who he was, so it couldn’t hurt, he decided.

They gained speed after about two hours of trotting around, and Alfred noticed they were leaving the inhabited area and approaching a calmer area. But it wasn’t going to be boring – for in the distance he could see the magnificence that was the Diamonds palace.

It was about as big as the Spades palace, he reasoned. Instead of a big spade, their front gates were in the form of a diamond, the golden of the material reflecting brightly in the sun. Most of the walls were white, a kind of marble or crème colour.

Perhaps half an hour passed when they approached the gates, the massive doors opening for them immediately. Alfred pulled back into the carriage, not wanting to seem overly eager now that he was actually going to have to act like his role.

He looked at his knees and suddenly felt panic rising in his chest – he had _no_ idea how the act or what to say or what to do –

“Your Majesty?”

And he was probably going to fuck this up and embarrass himself and oh, what if the King didn’t even want to help him and would just send him back on his merry way? This was a mistake, shit, he should’ve-

“…Master Jones?”

Alfred whirled around – apparently they had been addressing him. The guard that had been accompanying him had already left the carriage and was waiting for him to exit it too, the carriage standing still in front of the entrance of the palace.

“Right.” Alfred said, clearing his throat so that he didn’t accidentally talk in a high-pitched voice or something.

He could do this. _He could do this_.

Exiting the carriage, he was met by the steps towards the entrance of the palace. But it wasn’t it’s massiveness or beauty that threw Alfred off guard – it was a stern, rather important looking man, that was waiting for him at the bottom of those steps, that did.

He stared at him for a second – he had seen the man before…

Oh shit, this was the Jack. That stern expression was only rivalled by the King of Hearts, and he would have no business here. But it had been so long since he had seen  him, so he was still kind of hesitant. Perhaps this was just his cousin or brother.

“So…” Alfred started when he walked up to the man, not really comfortable under the man’s scrutiny. “You’re…” _Shit, what was his name. Come on Alfred, you studied this._ “Vasch?”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“I am Basch Zwingli, Jack to Diamonds.” _Close enough._ “And you are the Spades boy who was apprenticed to Sir Robert.”

Of course, the man had to have an impeccable memory. He saw Alfred, what, one time? Four years ago? That was just ridiculous. Alfred had meant to be invisible back then, not noticeable. Apparently his frown spoke volumes.

“A rider was sent ahead to inform us of your presence. Please follow me. His Majesty will see you in his study.”

“What, right now? Don’t I have to wash up or something?” Alfred asked, hurrying to follow the man who abruptly turned to ascend the steps to the entrance. His only reply was a curt shake of head as Basch quickly and effortlessly led them through a maze of halls, not giving Alfred the time to look around properly.

He decided he probably had time to marvel at the place later, and instead focused on following the Jack. Getting lost or losing the man would be horrendous, after all. And the sooner he had this introduction over with, the sooner he could get cleaned up (hopefully).

Alfred remained silent however, feeling that the Jack was kind of sending ‘do not talk’ vibes. Had he always been like this? Alfred tried to remember the dinner party he attended when he was fifteen, but honestly, he could hardly remember. He hadn’t even been introduced to the monarchs, had just watched them from afar and heard them talk to people sometimes.

They stopped in front of a grand oaken door, and Alfred watched with amazement as Basch didn’t even bother knocking on it and just entered it. That was either a show of disrespect or of trust, or a mix, and Alfred hoped he too would have a close relationship with his Jack later.

But all that could come later – because now he felt the nerves coming back tenfold. He was ushered inside by the blonde Jack, being left near the door as he himself approached the desk in the middle of the back wall of the room.

At it, sat what had to be the Diamonds king.

“Here he is. Do you need anything else or can I leave?”

Alfred’s nerves dropped a little at the informal tone that Basch used – he sounded almost exasperated. The man at the desk finished his writing and shoved his chair back, standing up with an air of drama and flourish that Alfred could never hope to mimic.

He too was clad in magnificent clothes, the golden and yellow tints on the fabric almost obnoxious, diamond symbols embroidered into his coat. One would think the gold and yellow would clash with the blonde of his hair, but as with Basch, it didn’t.

But oh, he remembered this man.

“ _Magnifique_. I’ll see you at dinner.”

At that, Basch nodded and promptly left the room without offering Alfred another glance. He would think about how that was kind of rude, if his eyes weren’t glued on to the other king in slight amazement and humour.

This man, yes, he remembered this man. Flirting with every woman on the floor, even the Spades Queen. She hadn’t seemed to mind however, laughing at him and dancing a spectacular waltz with him later in the evening.

Alfred had kind of thought that this was probably the King he would befriend, because looking at the Clubs and Hearts King… well, they didn’t radiate the same air of cheerfulness and impropriety.

“What brings the _petite_ prince of Spades to my humble abode, I wonder?”

Alfred started out of his memories and smiled sheepishly – he realized the King, Francis, probably knew why he was here, but wanted to hear it from him. Still, he was kind of intimated being in the presence of the man, even if he felt as if this were probably the king he had most opportunity of an alliance with.

So instead of playing the loyal sheep, he decided to be a little more brash. He had to act his role, and he had to stop being a nervous adolescent.

“I think you know why I am here.”

Francis eyed him for a moment before offering a wry smile, inclining his head slightly to a set of chairs to his left. Alfred recognized an offer when he saw one and walked over to sit down on one of them, Francis moving to a side table to pour some drinks.

“Wine?” Alfred wasn’t sure if he should, but he nodded anyway. “I heard about what happened. _Quel dommage_. Poor Elizabeth.” At the mention of the name of the Queen, Alfred perked up a little. So she was still alive, then?

“What do you know of the situation in Spades?”

Francis handed him his glass and sat down in front of him, eyeing him with an unreadable expression.

“We will get to that later. I have a few questions of you, if I am to extend to you my hospitality.” He said instead, using a tone that let Alfred know that there was no room for argument. And it wasn’t as if Alfred had to argue with that, because even if he was impatient, he was also grateful.

“Let’s hear it.”

“The forest?”

Alfred figured that would come up. The guard in the carriage told him that they had dealings before, negative ones with the forest. Though decades have passed, there had been a time when a lot of creatures were attracted by the fortunate climate and moved out of the forest and into the lands, causing many conflicts.

“I lived nearby it, so when we were attacked by Clubs men, I fled into it for safety.” He wasn’t sure how much Francis had heard about Alfred in particular, so he decided to keep it short and simple.

He wasn’t sure if he should mention Arthur, however. Francis looked kind of dubious for a moment, obviously wondering how Alfred had survived. He decided to mangle the truth just a little bit.

“There I stumbled upon friendly forest spirits… three of them.  They helped me through it.”

He almost gagged at how stupid that sounded. As if it were straight from a fantasy novel. He would have never believed it, had he not experienced it himself. Francis eyed him strangely but didn’t ask for any other clarification. And whilst Alfred was a hundred per cent sure that the man didn’t buy his story, at least he didn’t pry.

“Spades is safe, for the moment.” Francis said after they shared a few moments of silence, sipping their wine. “Clubs is another question.”

“Was it… is Spades at war?”

“Not quite. Apparently the assassination _was_ ordered by the King. But the Queen and Jack contacted me themselves, claiming they had nothing to do with it and that their King had gone mad. At first I thought this was because I remain neutral in international affairs… but I think you are going to share some vital information with me, _non_?”

“The men who chased me, I think a Joker was leading them.” That was the only vital information Alfred could think of, and instead of keeping it from the man, he didn’t hesitate to reveal it. Francis nodded and seemed to consider it for a moment.

“I will have to contact them before we make other plans, then. If this is true, then perhaps the old man needs to pass down his crown to young Ivan.”

“Ivan?”

“The current prince of Clubs. But more about that later. I am sure you are exhausted. A room has been prepared for you.”

And just like that, a servant was fetched, a young girl who hurried Alfred out of the study and through some more hallways before he ended up in a rather luxurious room, if he said so himself. The girl excused herself after sending for a bath for him, telling him he need but ring the bell on his desk if he needed something.

Alfred sat down on the bed, forgetting to marvel about its softness as he stared ahead of himself, confusion clouding his thoughts.

Who was this Ivan, then? Was he not corrupted by the king of Clubs already? And what did Francis mean, that the Queen and Jack had nothing to do with it? Did that mean that this was not an act of war? So many questions spiralled in his head, it made him dizzy.

And what of him? Was he to remain here, or was he going to return to Spades anytime soon? The Queen was still alive, he reasoned, which was a huge relief. At least Spades wasn’t leaderless right now. Francis made it sound as if only the King had been murdered, which confirmed the idea of the king of Clubs having acted without his countries approval. Perhaps the Jack was still alive too.

He sure hoped so – if the Jack had been killed, a new Jack would have been picked immediately, but the new Jack would be twelve years old and inexperienced. He could deal with a new, inexperienced Queen, but not with an inexperienced Queen _and_ Jack. Not when he was already inexperienced himself.

Alfred sighed, feeling exhaustion catching up with him. He felt tired and immensely dirty, as if his hair was plastered to his forehead with the remains of sweat, humidity and dirt. He could definitely use new clothes too, but he realized that had been thought off, as he saw a set of clothing waiting for him on a dresser.

Diamonds colours, he realized with a grimace. Oh well, he couldn’t expect them to have Spadian colours. He was grateful for them, anyway. Ignoring the people rushing in and out of his room as they prepared a bath for him, Alfred wrung himself out of his shirt. Manoeuvring out of his trousers was a little more difficult, as he was acutely aware of the dull ache in his leg and reminded of his old injury.

A maid looked at him questioningly as she gathered his dirty clothes, inquiring if he needed assistance, but he waved her off with a gentle smile. The wound was closed and he could put his weight on it once more, the pain resembling a muscle pain more than an actual injury.

It brought his mind back to Arthur, however.

Ignoring the fact that the water of his bath was actually too hot still, he climbed into the bathtub, lowering himself until the water hit his shoulders. The burn was a nice reminder of him being back in the living world – and a luxury. Even back at home he had never had the pleasure of having lots of hot baths, though he imagined he’d have them every day from now on if he wanted to.

Arthur was probably back to being his lonesome self, talking with his faery friends and his flying bunny and enjoying the hermit life. Alfred scowled as he realized he missed the other man intensely. Arthur would have good input on his questions, he knew. Arthur always seemed to be more reasonable, finding logic behind things whereas Alfred was more of the emotional kind.

And despite being slightly angry at the man for how they parted, and even angrier for the thought that perhaps Alfred had been nothing but a nuisance to the man instead of a friend – he couldn’t help but feel sorrowful and protective as well.

Hence why he didn’t tell Francis about him. It was silly, but the idea of Francis sending guards into the forest to hunt Arthur down, as Arthur had imagined, struck him the wrong way. Francis probably wouldn’t bother, but the idea had been implanted in his mind by the mage, and he wished for nothing more but the mage’s safety.

Stretching his leg a little, Alfred looked at the scar. It was probably all that would remind him of Arthur in the future. But it was something, still.  
  


* * *

 

Dinner with the Diamonds monarchs was a rowdy and slightly odd, but humorous, affair.

First of all, the food was great (except for maybe the snails, who even eats snails?).

Alfred began to think that this entire country was the perfect vacationing resort – everything seemed great and gorgeous and Alfred just waited for the moment something would rear its ugly head to prove that Diamonds wasn’t all that fantastic.

Second of all, he was seated next to Basch, so that meant no conversation whatsoever. Which was kind of awkward because Alfred _loved_ to talk, but sure, fine, he could handle it. And it wasn’t as if he wasn’t talking at all. Francis occasionally asked him questions about his life back at home and about why he had been hidden off from other kingdoms.

All information that, albeit selected carefully, Alfred had no qualm with giving. For the past few centuries Diamonds had always remained a solid reputation of neutrality and generosity, and it has always been the other three countries that warred amongst themselves.

“My condolences about the King, Alfred.”

For the first time that evening, the timid and small-looking Queen next to Francis spoke up. She had been quiet, observing Alfred all evening whilst exchanging weird looks with Basch (her brother, Alfred remembered, and perhaps they shared the same weird mental connection he did with Mattie).

“Thank you.” He replied, trying not to be rude now that the Queen was actually talking to him.

She was a lovely thing, but she was young. Sixteen years old, the Queen had been crowned when she was but fourteen years old, two years after she had been found. He had never met her before because she had been too young when Alfred attended that party, and he felt odd about being older than her but not having the same role as her, yet.

The rumours about the King and Queen of Diamonds having no relationship whatsoever proved true, thankfully. Alfred wouldn’t have known what to think about their relationship concerning their age difference and all. No, the way Francis interacted with her proved more like an older brother, if any.

“I will send a tailor to you later to have clothes made in your own kingdom’s colours.” She continued, offering a slight glare towards Francis.

He repeated his gratitude again, insisting he didn’t want to be any trouble to which she insisted it was none. They exchanged some more polite conversation, the young girl curiously inquiring about any future Queen of Spades, Alfred sullenly entrusting her that there was none to be spoken of yet.

After dinner was finished, and every monarch was supplied with drinks, Francis turned back to Alfred with business in his eyes once more.

“We will have to wait for a reply of Elizaveta.” The Club’s Queen, right. “But I propose we get you back to Spades as soon as possible. There we will have you crowned, and invite the other monarchs to discuss this situation. A joker is not to be trifled with, after all.”

Alfred gulped – he was going to be crowned already?

“Wouldn’t a big event like that be… y’know, dangerous?”

“Nonsense. It seems the assassination was planned on the King of Spades and you specifically. Surrounding you with the other monarchs and their guards will probably be safest for you, aside from throwing you into Heart’s dungeons.”

The suggestion made Alfred shudder – the dungeons of Hearts were often the setting of scary bedtime tales. Apparently during a great war two centuries ago, a war where Hearts tried to fight for world domination, the dungeons were used for inhumane experiments. They exist still but were not in use, but they were solid and unescapable.

“And whilst we wait and prepare for the trip to Spades, Basch will educate you on what it’s like to be a King.”

Both Alfred _and_ the Jack seemed to splutter a little at that, Basch more horrified than Alfred. Both men voiced their protests simultaneously, eliciting giggles from the Queen and an amused look from the King.

“Come now, Basch, it’s not as if you have anything better to do. And Alfred, I have known you for two days and I can tell you lack… certain _fine_ aspects of kinghood. Humour me.”

Oh wow, that was kind of a low blow. Alfred felt like pouting and glaring and instead settled for downing his entire glass of wine in one go. Which was probably what Francis was talking about, but whatever.

Which led him to this exact moment – he had been given another day to relax and rest and generally enjoy the surroundings around him, but on the fourth day of his stay at the castle, he was awoken rather rudely at six a.m. sharp by a rather crass looking Jack.

He was practically dragged out of bed, still sleep-drugged, and nearly dunked into cold water when Basch got impatient with him. After the rather frightening morning ritual, the Jack had led him out of the room and hallways and into a more modest looking area. They ended up in a study similar to Francis’, though this one was obviously the Jack’s.

Said Jack was currently droning on and on about something, and Alfred’s thoughts were miles away. He wondered what Arthur was doing.

A slap on the back of his head with a rather heavy book separated him from daydreams involving a green eyed mage, and he wondered if a Jack was allowed to do that to another kingdom’s King.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“When you meet the Queen or King you address them with Your Majesty. From there on may address them with Ma’am or Sir.” Alfred dutifully repeated – really, he _had_ learned this, but apparently the Jack felt the need to rehearse some stuff. “When being introduced to another monarch, men should bow and women should curtsy. Between Kings, a handshake is also acceptable. The bow should be made by bending from the neck or shoulders. Come on Basch, I know this stuff already.”

Basch levelled him with a look that told Alfred exactly what the man was thinking – and to be truthful, Alfred hadn’t used proper etiquette upon meeting the Diamonds’ monarch. So perhaps they were right about him needing a little more education. And he hadn’t exactly been all elegant and dainty whilst eating his first meal here either.

“A count asks you to attend a dinner at his place, yet you’re indifferent to the invitation. What to do you do?”

“I indicate that I have a prior engagement, but I will not elaborate on it too much. I will remember to refuse graciously, without causing offence.”

They went over more basics, like etiquette on dining and dancing, on how a King should walk in public and how he should address his subjects, and by dinner time Basch was at least satisfied with the fact that Alfred knew the basics. He voiced his wish for Alfred to use them, but for now, knowing them was good enough.

During that dinner, Alfred tediously kept to all the rules he knew, trying not to appear too bored whilst maintaining civil conversation. At least Francis looked pleased, which might mean they could hurry this entire process up a little more.

Days went by like that, and each passing day Alfred grew more and more anxious. He felt as if he were wasting his time, yet he also realized that what Basch was teaching him was kind of valuable. Nobody knew who he was still, so he was allowed to venture out with the Jack and interact with the people. Or rather, watch Basch interact with the people and take notes.

He was allowed to choose the wording for the letters they would sent to other monarchs informing them of plans and the situation, the Jack writing them with a swift and deft hand. He even participated in some dancing lessons on the Queen’s insistence – thankfully _with_ the Queen too, because he was sure to die from mortification if he had to dance with the Jack.

Every night he would meet with Francis in the King’s study, for idle chitchat or for more business talk. The meetings grew to be some sort of comfort to Alfred – getting to know the man more personally made him less intimidating, and also made the role of king seem less frightening to Alfred.

Whilst he in no way fulfilled the same role his old King had, Francis was a man Alfred could look up to. Francis had jokingly announced himself as Alfred’s big brother once as he had been flirting away with some of the maids, Alfred rolling his eyes and offering the giggling girls a charming smile.

It was thus that he finally manged to share some of his other concerns with the King – those concerns being his family.

“You should have said so before.” Francis scolded good naturedly. “Should they be unharmed, I will arrange for them to be brought to the Spades palace as well.”

“Thank you so much, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“Family is important, _non_? I have a younger sister, myself. Unfortunately Michelle hates the royal life and chose to remain with her husband on the farms. Dreadful, really.”

“You were raised on a farm, too?”

“ _Mon Dieu_ , no! My father was a baron. My sister chose to marry a simpleton and moved out of the comfort of our home shortly before I was crowned. That is what love does with you, I suppose.”

Alfred nodded, already having thought it would have been odd. Francis didn’t strike him as a farmer – he simply didn’t have the same muscle mass that Alfred had himself or saw on other farmers, and his entire being just screamed aristocrat. Even so, he could probably defeat Alfred in a sword fight in a matter of seconds.

“ _L’amour_ is such a wonderful thing, is it not? Do you have a sweetheart back at home?”

Realizing this was turning into gossip, Alfred’s eyes widened a little at the gleeful expression on the other’s face.

“Actually, no.”

“A man of your stature must have attracted some attention from the local farm girls, no?”

Alfred’s face heated up a little at that – it had, actually, Alfred could have easily responded to the many flirtations of the servants back at home or the small amount of people he had seen outside of his secluded life.

And then his traitorous mind conjured up the image of green eyes underneath messy, blonde hair, and he felt his cheeks heat up even more.

“There _is_ someone! Do share!”

Oh god, what was this, a day at the market with two women?

“There- no, there isn’t anyone.” Alfred stubbornly denied. “I never bothered, what with my future being set and stuff.”

Francis tsk’ed at him, a rather inelegant gesture which made the man even more human in Alfred’s eyes. Which was a comforting idea.

“A King does not have to deprive himself of romance. Dear Ludwig is very sweet on his Jack. And Elizaveta and Roderich have been together ever since they were appointed to their duties.”

 “Yes, well, I haven’t even been crowned yet, and I haven’t even met my Queen-“

“Ah,” Francis interrupted, a fond expression on his face. “So you are a romantic, _oui_? I do not wish to be the bearer of bad news, but often a Queen and King do not share any romance.”

“It isn’t like that.” Alfred bristled, a little embarrassed to have being read that easily. “I know that, I just… I don’t know. I want to give the whole marriage thing a go before I write it off. I _know_ it’s probably going to be terrible and completely unromantic, but…”

“But what if your Queen is the one, anyway?” Francis helpfully added, shoulders shaking with laughter. “I admire your optimism.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a fat chance my Queen is going to be younger than yours.” Alfred grumbled, before deciding to drop the subject from his mind altogether. He wasn’t going to stress about his future Queen, when he had other things to stress about. “What about you?” He asked instead.

“I shared your optimism, when I was but a boy.” Francis said with a mirthful glee in his eyes. “But I too became King without a Queen. There was a girl at court I grew up with of whom I often wished was my Queen, however. Sadly she fell ill and passed away a few years ago.”

Alfred wasn’t entirely prepared for that information, and fought against openly staring at the other man in shock. “I’m sorry.”

“ _C’est la vie_. Who knows, perhaps you will love your Queen.”

Realizing finding his Queen was actually one of the last things on his mind, Alfred sighed and looked away from the other man. Perhaps he would.


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WOW hello I have returned.
> 
> I have no excuse for the long wait, I am so sorry.. so instead of making y'all wait a chapter or two until Arthur's return, I readjusted this chapter a thousand times to fit everything in logically. Hopefully you guys like it 

Twenty six days.

Don’t get him wrong, the palace of Diamonds is as beautiful as it is spacious. Alfred could walk for hours and hours and still find unexplored rooms and gardens. He often wondered whether or not all of those rooms were in use, or if they were just collecting dust over the years.

Did the palace of Spades have that many rooms? He stressed and stressed but he could remember maybe fifteen rooms at best, and that was including the kitchen. He never had enough time to explore the palace of Spades, after all.

All the rooms in this palace looked the same to him, however. They were all obnoxiously gold and whitish (well, they would be obnoxiously blue and silver in Spades…). He supposed that if he looked more like his brother, he could have entertained himself for hours on end with the painted ceilings and walls.

But, you know. See twenty naked men, women and cherubs and you have seen them all.

Twenty six days seemed like forever. If he were not training to be a king, eating with the monarchs, or sleeping… then he was not doing much. Francis did not allow him to go outside, even the stables were off-limits. Too many risks, he said, because apparently you can’t even trust stable boys.

Almost immediately after his arrival, he had felt the walls coming in on him, as if he were suffocating. He wondered if he was supposed to get used to it. Fortunately for him and his well-being, he found the library, and even more importantly, the astrology room right above it.

The latter was where he spent most of his days. It was empty most days, sometimes occupied by royal scholars. They were old men, and Alfred had found them to be quite stuffy until he found one that was fond of his inquisitive nature and told him… well, _stuff._

Alfred had never even heard about the things he had been told. Of course he knew there were stars and a moon and sun, but… wow. He didn’t understand a lot yet, currently helping the man mapping some constellations and learning about them. Most of the stuff went way over his head, the scholar admitting that he had been learning about this for over sixty years and that he still not understood everything.

He had been assured by the scholar that Spades had a similar room, so that was a thing to anticipate. He hoped that he would not be so restricted there, once he was King. There was something about the stars, the sky, the moon and whatnot that just… _pulled_ at Alfred. When Lily found out, she chuckled, claiming that his interest in magic could explain his interest in the stars. Apparently the two were closely entwined.

Three more days, Alfred chanted, rubbing his sore muscles. Currently he sat in the library, working agonizingly slow through books about the history of relations between the four kingdoms. In three days’ time, they would finally start their trek to Spades.

He promised himself that if he got through _one_ more book, he was allowed to call it quits for the day and return to _another_ book he had been reading. According to the Jack, Basch, it was hardly something a King should be interested in, but Lily indulged him.

She appreciated his interest about magic, offering him tips on what books were theoretically good to read and which books were more appropriate for fun.

Alfred so far had had one opportunity to spend an evening with the dainty Queen, without the supervision of her brother or a lot of guards (there were _always_ guards). That night, he was able to talk more about magic, about his brother, about his non-existent Queen. A lot of his curiosity towards the subject was sated, because unlike his inexperienced brother and the uptight companion he had a while ago, Lily was very keen to share her knowledge.

She had even demonstrated a bit of her own magic to him, just to entertain him . It was amazing, but not as breath-taking as the magic he had grown used to the month before. He tried to push that thought far, far away, but Lily’s lulling wine red was nothing compared to the wild, untamed green (or the breezy lilac he associated with his brother).

Lily had confided in him, that as of yet, she was not very experienced with her magic. She could not yet confidently use it in battle, but she loved to perform simple chores with it and entertain children in the villages when she visited. She would learn more during the years to come, she assured him, as she was already training quite a bit.

Every other day she would join the dinner table with bags under her eyes, an exhausted look on her face he was painfully familiar with.

He wondered how Matthew was doing, if he was training or if he was lying dormant.

Five days ago, a messenger arrived at the palace with new for the King of Diamonds. Francis had allowed Alfred to stay, as it apparently concerned him most of all. His mother and brother had been found. They were residing with one of their servants until the area was safe, and were now heading to the Spades capitol.

Alfred anxiously awaited the chance to see them again. He had wrote to them, something short and simple explaining that he was safe and that he missed them, but he would not see their reply because they would be on the road by then.

The thought cheered him up immensely however, made these last few days imprisoned in the palace a bit better.

Besides, if he were not feeling constricted, then he would be feeling dreadful of the nearby future. The thought of meeting his family, of keeping them safe, managed to drag him away from the feeling to run away from his responsibilities.

Alfred dragged a hand through his hair, looking around.

Matthew would have loved all of these books (Arthur would have loved them, also).

Could Arthur even read? Was that a thing his adoptive brothers had taught him? Had he been taught before he hid in the forest from the rest of the world?

Another thing to add to the pile of things he wanted to find out but probably never would.

“I tried.” He muttered to himself, flinging the book he was halfway through with away from him. Underestimating his own strength, it flew away from him and against a lamp, which fell down to the ground and shattered.

He had meant for it to be thrown onto the table. Alfred sighed and buried his face in his arms on the table.

His second day in the palace, Francis had cornered him and explained to him that every King possessed some form of magic that gave them an unique ability. For him, it was a silver tongue. Alfred admitted Francis had always been a smooth talker, whether it was political, flirty or friendly. He could sway people to his will if he put his mind to it.

In fact, Francis used it on him, Alfred spilling that the only thing odd in his life had been his random bouts of freakish strength.

Thus began Lily occasionally flinging statues and other heavy things his way and Basch absolutely wrecking him in military training. He was soon used to the standard hand-to-hand combat and swordplay, but he was always pushed further than his limits, was forced to lift heavy things and run around with them.

His arms still ached, and he was pretty sure he pulled _something_ in his left butt cheek when he had strained to catch a horse carriage seemingly coming from nowhere, scaring every guard and horse (thankfully not tied to the carriage) in proximity.

He did feel as if he had a little more control over his strength. He still felt very much like a foal taking their first steps, and often broke stuff, but at least his strength didn’t come in random bouts anymore.

It was seemingly always there. Which was why Lily had also taken up _dancing_ out of all things with him. Terrified of crushing the small girl, Alfred was learning the appropriate use of strength. It worked well with living beings, he supposed, but inanimate objects? Not so much.

All that in twenty six days did make him feel a bit more confident about his ability to actually step into his role as the future monarch of Spades.

He started when someone cleared his throat to his side, and looked over to the see the Queen of Diamonds. She was amazingly light on her feet and scared him half to death for over a dozen times already, a mischievous glint always in her eyes. 

“An accident?” she asked, nodding towards the shattered lamp.

“Sorry.” Alfred said, shrugging sheepishly.

“Don’t be. What are you reading?”

Alfred blushed a little, knowing he couldn’t make up a lie about some political book or something. he had flung that book away after all, clutching his more ‘fun’ book in his hands.

“Eh… Fairy Tales of Suits.”

Lily looked surprised, but she also giggled. Alfred rubbed his neck and grinned, looking down at the book. Last night he had been right in the middle of a story containing people who lived underwater when he had fallen asleep.

He regarded the bookmark with a snort – sirens singing, causing sailors to drown, who would believe that? ( _Arthur might)_.

“It is refreshing to see a man so enamoured with magical things.” Lily said sweetly. “Basch doesn’t read anything but his military reports, and Francis is only ever interested in those novels of his.”

“You mean it’s child-like. Just say it, I can handle it. I’m a big boy.”

She laughed once more, hiding her mouth with her hand, and Alfred smiled. He was starting to see her as a baby sister or maybe a cousin, even after such a short while. Which would be good, he figured. Spades needed good relations with Diamonds. And he needed friends he could trust.

“It is not child-like to be interested in magic or fiction, Alfred. I find it very encouraging.”

 “I’ve never read any of these things. All that I was ever allowed to read were books about politics, history and etiquette. I once stole a novel from one of the servant girls about a knight fighting a dragon to save his love. My governess threw it in the fireplace when she realized.”

“That’s awful.” Lily agreed. “It is true that you had to be educated in the ways of a king, but reading is a hobby nonetheless. And a wonderful one at that, an opportunity to lose yourself in another world when your own is too constricting.”

Often Lily said things that would surprise him. She came across as mysterious and silent, but in honesty she was so very open with her thoughts and feelings once she trusted you.

“Some of these are wrong though.” Alfred mused. “I met a troll and they –“ he realized he was about to slip information about his time in the forest and silenced immediately.

He hadn’t technically met a troll, but Arthur had told him about the two that had been jesting and following the duo in detail.

“The forest?” Lily inquired, and Alfred nodded. “It took a lot of persuading to keep Francis from getting it out of you what happened in there, you know.”

“It is private.” Alfred grimaced. “I… nothing peculiar happened. Just a few strange things.”

“I do not mind, Alfred, as long as you were not compromised in any way. You are healthy, are you not? That is what matters.”

“I… Thank you.”

“You do not need to answer,” Lily said, a knowing smile on her face. “but something of significance happened, did it not? Or maybe someone.”

Alfred willed his expression to stay neutral – this etiquette training sometimes did wonders. “There were no someone’s in the forest.”

“There are many fairy tales of men falling for elves or faeries.”

He laughed a little at that. “And as far as I know they all end in them being gruesomely murdered.”

“And you are most definitely still alive.” Lily agreed. 

She stared at the book he had previously been reading for a little while, expression unreadable. Alfred wondered what she suspected – she was right, after all, and was he really that easy to read or was she just perceptive?

He hoped the latter, though he knew Francis also suspected something was up. He wondered if Lily had discussed that with Francis or not. He wondered if they ever spent a lot of time, just the two of them, without Basch or other guards. They did not seem very close at all.

“Well, I will see you at dinner.” She stood up and made to leave before swiftly turning around. “That reminds me, Francis asked me to tell you he wishes for your company when you are done studying.”

“What for?”

“I did not ask, my apologies.”

Alfred pondered as Lily took her leave – the last time Francis summoned him like that, they went down to the kitchens. Francis had all but forced Alfred to taste some of Diamond’s more… exquisite cuisines.

He didn't quite understand Diamonds' obsession with weird foods, such as snails. _Escargots_ , they called them, as if that would make it better. Alfred could only think of all those poor little guys, trying to do their best, crawling around. Truly barbaric.

Of course, upon voicing this opinion, Francis called him the barbaric, and they agreed to disagree.

After putting all the books he had taken back into their designated places, he left the library to search for the other King. Most likely he was in his study, during this time of day. He took a shortcut through one of the palace's courtyards.

The brightness of the palace combined with the thick, heavy smell of the sweet flowers made him a little dizzy. It was not a hot day, but the sun still burned pleasantly on his skin. That would be something he would miss when he would be back in Spades – it was more likely to rain there, and it would be significantly colder.

Were he forced to choose though, he would know he would always pick Spades’ colder weather. He was more used to that climate, and he could appreciate it when his shirt did _not_ stick to him like a second skin at the end of long day.

He dallied a while longer in the courtyard to chat with some of the servants there, before manning up and entering the other side of the palace to find its King.

"Ah, Alfred!" Francis stated jovially as the other entered his study. "I see you dressed up."

Alfred looked down at his rather casual attire in the colours of Diamonds. He had few clothing in the colours of Spades but he did not wish to burden the tailors anymore, for he wasn’t staying long anyway.

“Not everyone dresses up for a ball every waking moment, Francis.”

“Well, they should.” Francis declared with an upturned nose, winking at him.

Alfred shook his head with a huff of laughter, coming up to the other to sit opposite of him. "So, what am I here for?"

“Ah, yes. We are leaving tomorrow at dawn.”

“What? Already? I thought we weren’t going until the end of this week.”

Francis sighed, looking a little tired. “That was the plan, but there's been strange... activity taking place nearby the forest. Of the magical kind.”

“The Joker?”

“I would not know what else. We apprehended a Clubs mercenary recently, and two others were found dead at the treeline. We should probably use this time to go to Spades as fast as possible, instead of staying here as sitting ducks.”

Alfred frowned a little. The corners of the forest were not all that deadly. The deadly plants did not start until at least a few dozen foot in. So how come Clubs mercenaries were found at the edge?

He quickly swallowed the sour feeling of unrealistic hope blossoming in his chest, forcing himself to not even think about what could have killed them.

“Wouldn't we be more vulnerable on the roads?”

“I've been pondering on that for a while too, but what if the danger never ceases? You cannot hide in Diamonds for the rest of your life. Being on the move sooner rather than later would lessen the risk.”

Alfred sighed, nodding in agreement. Francis was right – he couldn’t sit here on his arse for the rest of his life, hidden away and enjoying the luxury of false safety. If any he’d only endanger the people in here by staying longer.   


* * *

 

Being on the road felt infinitely better than being locked up in the palace, even if he now had even lesser room. He had to sit most of the time, for one, and his only company was the King of Diamonds. Thankfully, Francis did not find it necessary to talk the entire time, and they spent a lot of hours in companionable silence.

He had packed the few clothes that had been given to him, some scrolls his scholar friend had given him, and the Fairy Tale book he had been reading. Lily had snuck it in with his belongings, winking at him.

The Queen herself opted to stay in Diamonds for the time being. She would attend the crowning ceremony, so she would hit the roads later. Basch had grumbled a bit as he was forced to accompany the king, despite knowing that Lily would be in good hands.

After all, most of the Kings guards were actually still in Diamonds. Francis explained that travelling in a smaller company made it seem less like they were royals. Even the carriages were not elaborate, opting more for a merchant kind of look.

The trip would take a few days, Alfred had been told. They would reach Spades within three days if the weather was kind and if they would only stop at night, but it would take another two days to reach to palace.

Today was the third day, and Alfred, despite not feeling cagey, could not help from being restless. Francis understandably grew tired of his incessant rusting and shifting, offering him a glare.

“Can you not sit still for _one_ hour?”

“Give me a break! This carriage is as big as our storage closet at home, and we have been in it non- stop for at least eight hours now.”

“You know we cannot afford a break. The sooner we get there-“

“The better, I know! But I would really not be opposed if we were to arrive four hours later than planned if it would give me enough time to stretch my legs and actually pee in peace, you know.”

Francis frowned at the last part, before grabbing Alfred’s knee firmly. It had been bouncing up and down quite insistently for the better part of the last hour, and Alfred forced it to still at the contact. Francis sat back, nodding approvingly.

“Hold it in. We arrive at our next accommodation in seven hours.”

Alfred decided he did not need to keep up the pretence of honourable monarch and groaned like an impatient child and crossed his arms, pouting at the other man. The King in front of him rolled his eyes and promptly returned to the book in his hands.

Which was kind of infuriating, as well. Alfred had tried reading, but the up and down bouncing of the carriage combined with the letters in the books made him feel queasy. He decided reading wasn’t a good idea, lest he throw up all over the King of Diamonds.

But that left him with nothing to do, except for looking at clouds. They weren’t even travelling through villages, and the farms they encountered were rare. There were only wide patches of grass and land to be seen, occupied by the occasional livestock or wildlife.

He _really_ tried. He counted the number of sheep he has seen (23), he tried naming the bird species he saw (jokes on him, he recognized none but crows and pigeons), tried forming shapes of the clouds in his head. He ran scenarios in his head – what if the King of Spades had never been killed, what if Matthew had the mark and not him, what if Matthew had the mark of Jack, what if he had stayed in the-

“I can’t do this, Francis, I can’t.” Alfred said dramatically. “If I spend one more hour in this carriage moving through pastures, I am going to lose it. I’m not kidding. I think I might break something. Maybe even you.”

“ _Sacre bleu_ -“ Francis _almost_ snarled at him (and, well, Alfred kind of felt sorry for him. He was confined in a tiny space with Alfred, and Alfred could admit he was _really_ annoying when he was bored.) and turned slightly to bang on the carriage’s sides. It halted almost immediately, Basch riding up to their window to inquire what was up.

“Find us a clearing where we can safely set up camp. Alfred can explain himself to his family and his court when we arrive _a day later than planned_.”

The taste of victory was accompanied by a slightly anxious feeling – would he really have to explain himself to the court?

Basch frowned, but nodded anyway.

“There is a small clearing surrounded by hills ahead, close enough to river to get fresh water. It would be a strategic position, but…” He trailed off, looking over the carriage for a moment. “It is rather close to the edge of the forest.”

“Is that risky?” Alfred inquired.

“It is if Clubs still has a presence in the forest. If they are not, than it is actually, probably, safer to stick to the treeline.”

“So send some scouts ahead. If I have to spend this entire day with Alfred in a carriage, I am going to go insane.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel.” Alfred muttered, though the feeling was mutual and he still couldn’t really find it in him to blame the other. Basch had the gall to look slightly amused (or it could be a convulsion, Alfred could never tell), before riding off and giving the orders as the carriage continued.

“Thanks.” Alfred said after a while, and Francis waved a hand at him.

“Do not mention it.” He said. After a while, he added; “Seriously. Just stop talking. And moving. I hope you know we are using the time we spent not travelling to train you some more.”

“That’s fair.” Francis glared. “Right, shutting up now.”

It took them a little less than an hour to actually reach the clearing, and when the carriage stopped Alfred immediately jumped out of it and exaggeratedly started stretching his legs. Francis followed much more elegantly, as the rest of their company started about setting up the tents they had brought in case they could not find inns to stay in.

Alfred was refused by most of the guards when he asked if he could help or not, but Basch had no such reservations, ordering Alfred to carry the heavy stuff from here to there and to actually remove a tree from the ground so that they could chop it up and use it as firewood. He grunted but did not complain – it felt good to use his muscles a little after sitting still for so long.

Once they were actually settled in, guards on post and others preparing the food they had brought along, Alfred decided on a moment of rest and sat down opposite of Francis nearby the fire. The other King was still reading his book, a cup of wine in his free hand.

“What is it about?” Alfred eventually asked, nodding towards the book when Francis raised his head.

“Magic, actually. Lily was obviously overjoyed when she saw you being so interested in the subject, and I suppose I have been neglecting that particular interest of her.”

“Wait, seriously? So me saying that a King should be more involved in that topic actually… motivated you?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.” Francis remarked at Alfred’s smirk. He snapped the book closed, gently putting it on a stool functioning as a side table. “It is only about what kinds of magic there are. The topic bores me, but I try to make an effort.”

“Well, that’s good of you. I’m sure Lily will be happy. Even if you give up after trying, you know? At least you did try, so.”

Francis looked a little surprised at that, and nodded. “Yes… thank you.”

They shared a companionable silence after that, all through dinner. Alfred saw his chance when most of the guards were busy tidying up to escape the group and wander around a little (not too far of course, he wasn’t stupid and he didn’t have death wish), but Basch managed to grab him by the collar.

Alfred wondered if it was okay to treat him like that still when he was officially King, and was about to voice that thought to the stern Jack when Basch released him.

“If you want to walk about, at least let us know. We will follow at a respectable distance.”

“Better than nothing, I suppose.” Alfred agreed, watching Basch wave four other guards over, leaving Francis with the remaining seven. He took it as his cue to turn back around and start wandering, not really caring where he was going as long as he had the illusion of being alone for a moment.

It was not completely dark out yet, though the sky was slowly turning a more greyish colour as it prepared for night. It wouldn’t take more than half an hour, perhaps an hour, tops. He kept to a dirt path, following it and wondering if there lived any people nearby this place. It did not seem abandoned per se, but it also did not seem inhabited. The last farm they saw was at least two hours before they arrived here, but perhaps they would encounter one sooner when they were on their way again tomorrow.

He hadn’t noticed the sounds of bugs chirping stopping until Basch lowly called out for him. He looked up and noticed he had been walking straight to the edge of the forest. Groaning to himself, he waved to Basch to signal he had heard him, and stopped walking.

 _Cursed forest._ Alfred thought to himself with a bit of spite. It had been on his mind every single bloody day. Well, not the forest per se. He shook his head, but realized he probably would be thinking about it for a long time to come. If Alfred was bad at one thing, it was at letting things go. Letting people go.

And he realized he had instinctually been heading to the forest, despite knowing it was not safe. But it was quiet, and it offered him freedom. In there, he would not have to think about becoming King, about Clubs mercenaries trying to off him, about whether or not he would meet everyone’s standards.

Granted, without the wizard at his side, he would probably die within a day, maybe two if he still remembered  to look for certain signals.

He made a face at the trees ahead of him – it was so _clear_ to him, now. Why Arthur had declined coming with him, why he had almost immediately ducked back into the forest.

Why would he give that freedom up for someone like him? Arthur felt he had no place in this world, and well, Alfred was starting to believe it. Not because he did not think that Arthur would fit in, but because he knew Arthur would feel caged. He would feel the same way Alfred had felt those twenty six days in the palace.

He wouldn’t be able to just whip his magic out to perform menial tasks, like drying his shirt after a swim in the river. People would think that was odd. The wrong people might even react strongly to it.

The realization hurt a little. So far, Alfred had been able to keep this idea in his head that Arthur was just stupid and would he have chosen to come along, he would have been perfectly happy. He knew, even though he wanted to deny it, that that idea was only formed because of Alfred’s ego – he had hoped that he himself would have been enough for the other.

But that was selfish to think, and even though Matthew would praise him for his adult way of thinking, Alfred hated it. He missed Arthur and his stupid eyebrows and this stupid crush would probably persist for long after he was crowned.

Maybe, he entertained, maybe he could go into the forest after everything settled down with Clubs. An expedition would be too much – Arthur would avoid so many people, but maybe if he went alone, he would come and find him. Surely the creatures in the forest would alert Arthur of his arrival.

He entertained the idea for a while longer (maybe he would show him the old Suits castle), staring at the trees. They didn’t even rustle, the sight usually eerie but comforting to him now. Nothing was out of the ordinary with the forest, fortunately.

He didn’t know how long he had been standing there, but Basch called out for him again and he figured he might as well return lest he start an argument. He joined the Jack and the other guards as they strolled back towards their camping grounds. He hadn’t realized how far he had actually walked, and was silently grateful to the Jack for allowing that.

Basch walked next to him as they walked in front of their small group, clearing his throat.

“It’s… going to be tough when you arrive at your capital.” Basch began, uncertainty tinging his voice.

Alfred was stunned that the Jack even considered making small talk with him, and deciding that commenting on it would only provoke the other.

“I know what it is like, to be flung into a position as quickly as you have been now. Even if you had years to prepare, it is probably still… unnerving. I won’t offer words of comfort. It is going to be terrible.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You can handle it. Yao is a good Jack. Loyal. He will help you. And you have Queen Elizabeth to help you, even if she steps down.”

“I know. Thank you. Also for allowing me this… this, y’know? I needed to clear my head.”

“After spending so long in the carriage with _him_? Don’t sweat it.”

Alfred laughed softly, catching the twitch of Basch’s lips but not commenting on it. He pondered over this new side of the Jack for a while – so far Basch had been nothing but strict, always commenting on his form or beating the shit out of him at training, but he supposed that with a soft sister like Lily there had to be a friendlier side to the man.

As he eyed Basch, the man also almost seemed to be a little bit relaxed, as if he too really needed the break from travelling. At least Alfred sat in a carriage all day – Basch had to ride a horse all day, which was nice, but not so kind on the legs and thighs, Alfred knew.

Basch tensed before Alfred heard the noises coming from the camping grounds, and they simultaneously broke into a sprint to quickly reach the others.

With relief, Alfred noted that there was no blood bath, nor were the tents blown over. The carriage was whole, the horses were a bit spooked but stood still, and not a hair on Francis’ his blonde hair was cranked.

However, he still had the feeling that he had been punched in his gut.

Basch pushed past him towards the King, the guards behind Alfred moving to the front to join the others. The guards already there had their weapons drawn and trained on the intruding guest, though no one was attacking anyone yet. Alfred gaped like a fish, and was aware that he had not been noticed yet.

Arthur’s scowl was as magnificently venomous as he remembered, trained on the guards closest to him as he held his staff out. His entire body was positioned in a fight-or-flight stance, the top of his staff flickering in green light occasionally.

He looked tired, was the only thing that crossed Alfred’s mind.

One of the guards got a little sturdy and took a step toward Arthur, and the immediate reaction of the wizard was enough to snap Alfred out of his daze (and for the other guards to get ready to engage).

“Wait!” Alfred all but squealed (he would deny that later), stumbling forward and pushing some guards out of the way. Francis made an alarmed noise and Basch was already heading for Alfred, sword drawn, but Alfred ignored them.

“Put your weapons down!” He said to the other guards instead, waving Basch off when the man joined him at his side. “Nothing is wrong, it’s safe, just, stop pointing stuff at each other.”

Arthur had stilled at Alfred’s outburst, apparently only noticing the other just now. He looked a bit bewildered, green eyes going up and down as if making sure he had the right guy in front of him. He didn’t lower his stave however, and as Alfred stepped even closer he noticed that Arthur had it trained on Basch, who was making to follow.

He stopped an arm’s length away from the wizard, Alfred staring at him as Arthur’s gaze flitted from him to Basch to the guards with some uncertainty.

“Arthur, what-“ Alfred meekly begun, kind of feeling a bit overwhelmed and in awe of the other man’s appearance.

He hadn’t changed, which was good because it had only been a month, so if he had changed that would have been weird. He still looked almost sickly pale, his heavy cloak blending him slightly with the darkness, green eyes glowing slightly as he kept his magic on and trained on the people behind Alfred.

At Alfred’s words, Arthur frowned at him.

“Get them to stop pointing their weapons at me, or I will engage.” Arthur threatened, and if Alfred wasn’t so confused (and exhilarated) at his presence, he might have heard the slight of terror in the other’s voice.

Realizing the threat for what it was had Alfred turn around, because a fight would not end well (for the guards, probably).

“Weapons down, men.” Alfred said, trying to go for commanding. It failed spectacularly, probably because they weren’t actually his man. Basch however lowered his sword slightly, and in unison everyone looked over at Francis (which would have been funny if not for the circumstances).

“You know this man?” The way he said it almost made the hairs in Alfred’s neck rise up, and unconsciously he moved so that he shielded Arthur a bit more. Arthur was unnaturally still, he could not even hear him breath, and it occurred to him that the other man must be terrified.

How long had he gone without any form of social contact with humans? Aside from Alfred?

“I do, and I trust him, so tell them to back off.”

“He is a mage.”

“Your point being?”

They glowered at each other, Alfred hoping that for _once_ Francis would trust him on something he said without testing him for it multiple times. Francis pursed his lips, moved his glare toward the man behind Alfred, and nodded.

“Weapons down, men. At ease.”

Alfred smiled gratefully, and turned around, but Arthur was still in the same defensive position, eyes fixated on everyone behind Alfred.

“It’s okay, Arthur.”

“It’s not.” Arthur said dismissively, and Francis sighed as if he were dealing with a petulant child rather than a dangerous mage. He ordered the man to actually sheath their weapons, and everyone aside from Basch took a few steps back. Arthur didn’t relax in the slightest, but at least now his eyes focused on Alfred.

“Why- I mean, man, am I happy to see you!” Alfred started rambling, because what else was he going to do? He had _just_ been thinking, _pining_ , over the man in front of him, woefully thinking about a life with him in the woods and- there he was! Right in front of him! He resisted pinching himself. “What are you doing here?”

Arthur’s eyes flitted back to the men behind him, and he bit his lip. Alfred was immediately distracted by that particular movement, completely missing the way Arthur slammed his stave on the ground with a soft command. Dark smoke shot from the bottom of his stave and enveloped them, Alfred’s throat immediately disagreeing with his surroundings.

Whilst coughing he heard loud shouts and curses from Basch and the other guards behind him. Something grabbed his wrist rather tightly and all but dragged him forward at a hurried pace. Trying to get his breathing under control, Alfred allowed himself to stumble after what had to be Arthur, trying to keep his eyes open even if they teared a little from the smoke.

“Arthur, _wait_ ,” he finally managed to croak out, but it wasn’t for a good ten minutes later until they actually slowed down. The smoke was considerably lesser than before, but a look behind him told him that the area they had been in hadn’t changed.

Arthur was still dragging him forward, and Alfred forcibly (but gently) tugged his arm back, stilling the other man in front of him.

“Wait, wait up. What’s wrong? Where are we going? Why are you here?”

“I absolutely did not miss your constant questioning. Keep moving.” First of all, _rude._  Second of all, Alfred was sure Arthur had the right intentions but he could not just leave the others.

“No,” Alfred said resolutely, forcing himself to look Arthur in the eye and not cave. “not until you tell me why you are here.”

Arthur frowned, looking behind Alfred and then rolling his eyes when he deemed it safe for now.

“Why do you think, you wanker? I certainly did not come here to discuss the weather with you!”

At Alfred’s raised eyebrow, Arthur huffed.

“I was… look, they kept on _nagging_ and nagging me okay? They were impossible to deal with, and they wouldn’t leave me alone, and do you have any idea how many Clubs mercenaries I chased into the wrong direction? I have not had a _single_ bloody peaceful day since you left, so _excuse me_ for worrying and coming to find you because apparently all of Clubs was out there- “ He halted, realizing what he said.

A light red hue dusted Arthur’s cheeks, and Alfred had to bite his tongue to comment about the worrying. It would only scare the wizard off.

“They? Who are they?”

“…My brothers, and mint- look, forget that, we have to keep going. I have not seen a trace of the Joker for days and that worries me, so we should go into the forest and-“ he halted again, frowning.

“And what?” Alfred asked, trying to go for a gentle tone. Obviously Arthur hadn’t thought out his plan this far, yet. He looked rightly put off, not meeting Alfred’s eyes.

“You’ll be safer there. Trust me.” Arthur settled on saying, voice barely above a whisper as his eyes were fixed on somewhere to Alfred’s right.

Well, he probably wasn’t wrong, Alfred thought. But that wasn’t supposed to be the plan. It sounded so tempting though. Alfred unconsciously reached out to touch Arthur’s shoulder, but the other man seemed to flinch away from him, so he dropped it immediately.

“Arthur, I can’t just… go hide in the forest until it blows over. It probably won’t blow over? I have to get to Spades.”

“You could.” Arthur said, a rebellious tone to his voice. “You still have the Queen to govern your country. Let her deal with it.”

“I _can’t,_ Artie.”

The use of the nickname had Arthur sort of flinch again, an uncertain glint in his green eyes. It was obvious that he was fighting some sort of scenario out in his head, and Alfred sighed, knowing that whatever Arthur would come up with, he couldn’t agree. As much as his heart desired, he couldn’t just up and abandon everyone.

Much like Arthur, Alfred was searching for something to say – he was still confused, too many things reeling inside his head (why did Arthur’s brothers nagged to him? What had been going on in the forest? Did this mean Arthur cared for him, even though he had pretended he did not?), and did not notice the footsteps behind him.

Arthur, for one, reacted a bit too late. Alfred was pulled away rather harshly by someone, and he watched in horror as Basch swiped at Arthur with his sword. With relief he noted that it didn’t actually stab Arthur, nor did it slice off a limb, but it definitely left a wound on his arm and Arthur hissed, jumping back.

Almost immediately his stave starting glowing, Arthur swinging it at his offender wildly. It didn’t release any kind of spell yet, and Basch ducked to avoid getting hit in the head, before dashing forward again to attack.

Arthur was a bit more observant this time however, and stopped his sword with his stave. Alfred had half expected the sword to slice through the wood, but it seemed as if it did not even leave a dent. Arthur snarled and Basch was suddenly thrown back by a wave of angry, fluorescent green magic. He landed a few feet away, seemingly no worse for wear, but other guards took this as their cue to start attacking as well.

Alfred cried for them to stop at the same time that Arthur started muttering (which usually meant like, green tendrils or something, and that was bad news) when a booming voice sounded from behind him.

“Everyone stand down, _mon Dieu!_ There is no such need for such violence! Withdraw and sheath your weapons at once!”

Alfred frowned as he felt strangely compelled to do so, even if he had not had drawn any weapons and had not attacked anyone. He watched as all the guards, save for Basch, obediently stepped back and sheathed their swords, standing at attention to their King.

Right, silver tongue.

Arthur looked severely unimpressed, but had stopped muttering. His stave was pointed at the King now, and Francis glared at him.

“Alfred?”

“Yeah, we should… we should definitely talk.” Alfred settled on saying. He walked over to Arthur, looking him in the eye while putting his hand on the stave. Arthur scowled at him, but after six seconds (Alfred hadn’t been counting or anything) relented and lowered it to a non-threatening pose.

Adorably enough, his free hand came up to clutch at Alfred’s sleeve instead. Alfred didn’t show that he noticed, ignoring Francis’ pointed look.

“My tent, then?” Francis suggested. Arthur was about to reject the idea, Alfred could just feel it.

“Good idea.” Alfred quickly said. He looked over at Arthur, trying not to feel too guilty about the panicked edge Arthur’s eyes had taken nor the blood on his sleeve, pleading with the other to trust him. Arthur didn’t reply, but let himself be tugged towards the camping grounds, his eyes fixed on the guards and Jack all the time.

_This was going to be a long night._


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See me not update for a year and then update twice in a week lol

The conversation that would follow would not be a pleasant one, Alfred already knew this. Right now, Francis and Basch were arguing about the situation amongst themselves as they were trekking back to the camping grounds.

He couldn’t be bothered about what exactly they were arguing about, however, keeping a close eye on the mage next to him instead. Arthur looked incredibly on edge, scowl set in place as he regarded the guards around them closely.

Alfred wondered if it would help if he grabbed Arthur’s hand, or if it would make it worse. He decided upon the latter since Arthur himself had released his sleeve while walking, and instead shuffled so that he would walk a little closer to Arthur. Perhaps his presence would offer comfort, it was worth trying.

Some of the guards had lighted lanterns as to navigate back more easily, and in the distance he could already see the light from the fires they had set up. In the dark, the lanterns cast an eerie yellow glow. It was dark still, but Alfred was close enough to Arthur to look at his appearance for a bit.

He hadn’t changed – but he had bags underneath his eyes that could pass as bruises. His cloak was dirty and frayed at the bottom, a tear adorning the side where Basch had attacked. With every step Arthur took, he leaned heavily on his stave, as if he needed it for support lest he’d topple forward.

His lips were drawn tight, but Alfred couldn’t figure out whether it was because of irritation, pain or exhaustion. Perhaps a combination of all three.

Alfred wondered where the mage had been, what he had been doing. He wondered what his faerie brothers had been bothering him with, and he wondered what had happened with the Clubs people Arthur said were in the forest.

Was Arthur the cause of the dead and injured Clubs mercenaries they found at the edge of the forest in Diamonds?

He _had_ said he would distract Alfred’s chasers, right before he disappeared back into the forest. But Alfred thought that he would only do so whilst Alfred fled to the safety of the palace. Not weeks after, still.

Had there been that many mercenaries, or had Arthur kept to the edges? 

He had so many questions, and he doubted any of them were going to be answered. Even during their time together in the forest, Arthur loved his air of secrecy and mystery, often giving vague answers or giving none at all. His sharing moods, while amazing, were rare.

“Are you sure about them?”

Alfred started a little as he was broken out of his thoughts by Arthur, who barely whispered the words as his eyes were fixed on the monarch in front of them. He frowned – was Arthur asking whether or not they were ‘the good guys’?

“I am.” Alfred murmured in reply, nodding to get the message across even better. Arthur didn’t look very convinced, but kept silent, eyes straight ahead.

Alfred sighed as they reached the camping grounds – he knew that he shouldn’t, but he longed to just grab the other’s hand and pull him into his tent, so that they… so that they could talk, for starters. He wanted to know what was up, and he wanted to make sure the other got some rest, maybe get some food in him and clean him up a little.

Right there and then he made peace with the fact that he was probably not going to sleep a lot that night. Arthur had been terrible when it came to keeping watch at night after they had been attacked by the Joker, sacrificing entire night’s worth of sleep because he was paranoid something would attack.

Tonight would be no different, not with all the guards on the grounds, but Alfred hoped he could convince Arthur to rest if he volunteered to stay up instead.

They entered Francis’ his tent, thankfully no guards entering with them as Basch told them to stand guard outside. Everything about Arthur screamed hostility, but Alfred hoped the other two would be able to see past that.

 “Are you going to introduce us then, Alfred?” Francis began after a tense silence of a few seconds, wherein everyone simply regarded each other.

“Right,” Alfred began sheepishly. “This is Arthur. He…”

There was no point in lying. It was fairly obvious Arthur was not someone who had worked on the farm with him, nor was he someone from the palace of Spades. His appearance, his manners… everything about him screamed hermit.

“I met him while I was in the forest. He rescued me from mercenaries and then led me to Diamonds.” He settled on saying. He wondered if Arthur was miffed that Alfred was talking for him, but so far there was no such indication.

“And where is he from?”

The good old inevitable question. Alfred supposed he could claim Arthur was from Spades and neglect the fact he had left the country when he was a child, but that would still not explain the whole hermit appearance. Surprisingly enough, Arthur shuffled to stand next to him rather than behind him, and spoke up himself.

“Does that matter? I am here for Alfred.”

The answer was good enough for the person in question – Alfred’s insides fluttered pleasantly at the confession. Arthur had come back, for _him_.

“For all we know, you are a Clubs spy or someone looking to take advantage of Spades’ next monarch.” Francis accused, correctly assuming that Arthur knew of Alfred's mark. He waved his hand towards Alfred, eyes fixed on the mage. “So I will politely ask you once more, seeing as you are immune to me, which kingdom are you from?”

Of course Arthur would be immune to Francis’ so called silver tongue. Alfred felt kind of proud of that – it meant Arthur was strong willed, and that he was stronger when it came to magic compared to the King.

“None. I live in the forest.” Arthur admitted eventually, but he didn’t seem like he enjoyed giving that information away. Honestly, it had been kind of obvious anyway, but Alfred supposed that he had had to say it for Francis to believe it.

“Does that mean you are not human?”

“Of course I am, you git!”

Both Basch and Francis looked positively appalled at Arthur calling the _King of Diamonds_ names, but Arthur didn’t seem very apologetic. Alfred bit his cheek to refrain from nervously laughing.

“We should apprehend this… _man_ ,” Francis began, waving his hand at Arthur. Alfred had the distinct impression he had wanted to go for ‘creature’ or ‘being’, but caught himself. “but I feel that there is more to it than this, so what would you have me do?”

Alfred blinked, aware that Basch was apparently as surprised as him.

“You’re asking me?”

“You obviously know this man. Is he a danger to _my_ men?”

“I am if they keep their weapons trained on me.” Arthur sneered.

“That proves my point.”

Alfred sighed – he would probably be able to convince them that _he_ trusted Arthur and that _he_ knew him to be relatively harmless, but it would be hard to convince Francis and Basch that they could trust him too.

“We’re all on the same side here, okay?” He said, directing it at Arthur as much as Francis.

“Hardly.” Arthur replied with a frown, nodding his head over to the two monarchs on the other side of the tent. “Their only interest is their Kingdom and politics. I could not be bothered with either.”

“So if not with Spades or Clubs, where does your allegiance lie?” Francis asked, sounding considerably annoyed and ready to have the mage dragged out of his tent.

“With me,” Alfred said, keeping his eyes locked on the mage’s before turning back to Francis. “I trust him, so you can do so too. Look, I cannot tell you more, because that’s not my story to tell, okay? Just trust me when I say he won’t let any harm come to me, and by extension you guys, I guess.”

Arthur muttered his disagreement but Alfred smartly decided to ignore that. Francis glared, but his shoulders relaxed a little.

“ _Bien sûr,_ fine. My guards _will_ however keep an eye on him – he is an undocumented mage who, what, came from the forest? The moment I deem him untrustworthy we will detain him.”

“Fair’s fair.” Alfred ground out, hoping his voice covered Arthur’s murmured _‘as if you could'_. “Now, please excuse us.”

“Where are you going?”

“We settled this, right? We are going to my tent. It’s late, and we’re all tired, so have a good night.”

Alfred ignored Francis’ indignant reply about how the mage should not share his tent, instead grabbing Arthur’s free hand and tugging him out of this tent towards another. He heard guards following them, but they did not actually enter Alfred’s tent , opting to stand outside instead.  

Once inside, Arthur tugged himself free and walked over to the sides of the tent. Almost immediately he began muttering words to himself, glowing hands sliding over the surface of the tent. Alfred wanted to ask, but he was probably going to be ignored (and he had a feeling it were barriers anyhow), so instead he asked one of the guards outside to fetch him a bucket with clean water from the river so that the mage could clean up.

It arrived about the same time Arthur finished up, the guard regarding Arthur as if he were some kind of circus act before quickly scrambling back out of the tent. Arthur looked unimpressed, but whatever he had been doing seemed to have drained him off more energy and instead of being angry, he just leaned against his stave.

“Are you okay?” Alfred asked after a few seconds of silence. “You look awful.”

“And you _are_ awful.” Arthur said, but the words missed their usual playfulness or venom. “You should rest. I will keep guard and-” Arthur halted, swaying a bit on his feet, and Alfred quickly moved over to him to steady him.

“No, _you_ can rest. Honestly, when was the last time you managed to charge up a little? You look like you haven’t slept in days, Arthur. Come on, let’s clean you up a little first.”

Arthur, surprisingly, allowed himself to be dragged over to the bucket. He removed his cloak and draped it over the chair Alfred had set there earlier, before sitting in it with a tired scowl. Alfred sat down on a chair opposite of him, leaning in a little to look at where Basch had managed to hurt him.

The beige tunic Arthur wore underneath had a tear at his right, dark red spots of blood decorating the edges. It seemed to have stopped bleeding, fortunately, and Alfred reached out to check the wound.

He ignored Arthur freezing, figuring that the mage better just suck his personal space issues up for a moment so that Alfred could at least make sure the wound was going to be okay. He gingerly pushed the fabric aside a little to get a better look, and noticed that Arthur had apparently managed to somewhat heal the cut. It was not gone, but instead of an open gash there was an angry, elevated red mark the size of his palm.

Alfred couldn’t remember Arthur ever really using healing magic without herbs or salves, and wondered if he was usually better than this, and if he was just too tired right now. He allowed his thumb to dance over the red mark lightly, Arthur releasing a breath he had apparently been holding.

When Alfred met his eyes, he recognized something akin to fondness in the green orbs. He smiled happily at that, relieved that at least Arthur didn’t seem to distrust him or whatever.

“How are you?”

Arthur hesitated for a moment, before shrugging Alfred’s hand of his arm. “Physically I am fine.”

“And mentally?”

“Exhausted.” The mage admitted, looking away from him in embarrassment. “It was rather difficult to track you, especially once I had to leave the forest. I was about to give up, actually.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Alfred said, offering a genuine smile. “but I thought that you didn’t want to come with me. You made that pretty clear when we parted.”

“I still don’t want to,” Alfred hoped he masked the hurt in his expression, but Arthur wasn’t looking at him anyways. “but I was compelled to do so anyway. What with how my brothers reacted to me telling them I left you, you would think they raised _you_ and not me.”

Well, remind Alfred to thank the faerie brothers if he would ever meet them again.

“Really? I didn’t get the impression they liked me that much.”

 “Neither did I, but they were practically forcing me. And… there were a lot of Clubs people looking for you still. And then the Joker just disappeared from the forest and I assumed that- Well, I,”

Arthur faltered, cheeks turning a bit reddish in embarrassment. Alfred felt his heart thumping like crazy in his chest, but he opted to keep silent. He absolutely did not want to ruin this moment, and his mouth usually ruined a lot of moments, so.

“I was worried.” It seemingly took everything out of Arthur to admit to that as he spat the words, looking everywhere but at Alfred.

“So you came to drag me back to the forest to… what? Live out the rest of my days with you?”

It had meant to be teasing, sure, but Alfred’s chest felt a little constricted and instead it came out a bit more strained. Arthur didn’t take to it very well nonetheless, as would be expected.

“Forget it. You look fine, I should just-“

“No, no, wait!” Alfred forced out a nervous laugh as the mage angrily tried to make to leave, hands darting out to grab Arthur’s lower arms as to keep him in place.

“I’m glad you’re here. Honestly,  I could definitely use your help, you know. Danger is still lurking, and all. Please stay.”

Arthur sat back in the chair, but still had a little caged look in his eyes. He was obviously contemplating what Alfred was saying. Alfred was afraid of what he was going to say however – nothing stopped Arthur from leaving, _again_.

“You just, eh, why don’t you clean up a little? I have some spare shirts over there,” Alfred pointed to a bag that had been dumped near the furs functioning as a bed. “seeing as yours…kinda looks… anyway! Rest up a little too. I’ll get some food!”

With that, Alfred all but bolted from his chair and out of the tent, not waiting for a response. Once outside, he stomped over to where the supplies and food resided, taking his time in gathering some bread, cheese and fruits.

He _really_ hoped Arthur wasn’t going to bolt again.

But it was clear that Arthur had only came to find him with the intent of dragging him back to the forest. Now that Alfred declined that offer, what was Arthur going to do? Was he going to go back alone, tell his brothers that he tried and had no luck?

He felt guilty, but he was already making up all kinds of excuses to get the mage to stay. Perhaps he could convince the mage there was a lot of danger (honestly, Alfred hadn’t been in danger since the moment he had stepped out of the forest, but whatever), and that the mage had to stay because his magic was really badly needed.

The idea of lying to Arthur left a sour taste in his mouth, however. He could also just come clean – tell Arthur that he had missed him terribly and that he _really_ enjoyed his company, probably more than appropriate.

Definitely more than appropriate, Alfred thought with a flush as he remembered their chaste kiss.

“Alfred?”

Alfred nearly jumped out of his skin as he was interrupted from some less than holy thoughts by the Jack of Diamonds eyeing him rather disapprovingly. He sighed the moment he realized who it was, knowing the Jack was going to press him for more answers than he had given in the tent.

“This mage of yours-“

“His name is Arthur.” Alfred bit out, not liking the tone either Francis or Basch used to describe his friend.

“Yes,” Basch said, unimpressed.  “You said he rescued you and then helped you through the forest. How powerful is he, exactly? I need to know if I am to be capable of protecting _my_ King and people.”

That tone made Alfred feel a little guilty – he supposed he could get behind why Francis and Basch were so suspicious. He wondered if things would have been different if Lily had been here. Perhaps she would have sympathized with Arthur, with himself.

“I don’t know, honestly. I didn’t see him in action a lot. Only when he got rid of the mercenaries who chased me into the forest, and when we had to flee from the Joker. I, eh-“

Honesty was the key here. If he wasn’t being honest, and Basch or Francis would find out, they would only distrust Arthur more, and maybe him as well.

 “I got injured, that time, so I don’t remember exactly what happened, only that Arthur got us to safety. He didn’t use a lot of magic next to that, only for menial tasks and to keep the plants at bay.”

“ _Plants_?”  Basch’ eyebrows shot up.

Alfred chuckled; he supposed that sounded strange. While it _was_ known that the forest was dangerous –or at least, people told many ghost stories about the forest being enchanted and the like. Before actually entering the forest, Alfred had just thought it had been full of… well, predators that were not trees and plants.

“Yes, well, the foliage is kind of… bewitched? And if they’re not that, then they are either poisonous or venomous. One of the Clubs mercenaries was killed by a _tree_.”

“So you are saying that you survived weeks in a forest so dense, that sunlight does not pierce it, filled with carnivorous flora?”

Basch sounded as if he hardly believed it, and Alfred would be offended, but he knew damn well he would have been killed within an hour if it weren’t for Arthur. Hell, he’d been grabbed, poisoned and nearly stabbed by plants so often during their time in the forest, he had lost count.

“Yeah. Thanks to that _man_. He knows his way around everything, knew what to eat and what to avoid and stuff. Trust me, if he wanted to do any harm he would have just allowed me to poison myself.”

“Really? Didn’t it cross your mind that perhaps he wanted you to grow attached to him, so that he could infiltrate Spades?”

Alfred frowned – he knew the reasoning Basch and Francis had to get to that idea, but it was just not true. Alfred didn’t even feel a flicker of doubt. Arthur’s surprise at seeing a human, when they first met, that wasn’t faked. His curiosity and initial dislike of Alfred, that was all real, and Alfred was certain of that. And him admitting he had been worried, that had been vulnerable of him, and  _genuine_. 

“Okay, I get why you think that, but it’s not true.” Alfred began, hoping to placate the other man somewhat. “I was the first human being he had seen in _years_ , Basch. He didn’t know that the King of Spades had been assassinated, in fact he hardly knew anything about the kingdoms. He didn’t even want to help me at first, wouldn’t sleep because he didn’t want to let his guard down. The way he acted today is just because he hasn’t seen this many people together in… well, forever.”

He realized he was ranting a little in his hopes of convincing the other man that Arthur wasn’t bad news.

“He didn’t react strangely to all of you, all things considered. You have no idea how the forest is, Basch. It’s so silent, there aren´t even any birds or bugs. He’s just not used to all this noise. Everything in there is either out to kill you or hides from you.”

Alfred kept his face neutral, hoping he didn’t fuck up with the ‘hides from you’ comment. He had no idea if it was common knowledge that the forest actually _was_ inhabited with magical creatures, instead of it being a scary bed time story. Instead of calling him out on it, however, Basch only sighed.

“At least this explains why you were so interested with the magical department of our library.” He muttered, face unreadable. “We’re taking a leap with trusting you here, Alfred. The forest… and whatever is in there, it doesn’t have a good reputation. There is a reason people stay clear of it, why no one goes inside. To have someone native to it _come out_ of it, well, it’s unnerving.”

“I know. But he’s a friend, I swear.”

Basch regarded him for a few seconds, looking at the sac of food Alfred held in one of his hands. “Okay, I’ll tell Francis what you told me. Is he coming with us?”

“I… don’t know, actually. I’ll let you know.”

The other settled for that answer, bidding him goodnight and returning to Francis’ tent. Alfred watched him leave before deciding Arthur probably had enough time to get cleaned up now. He quickly made his way over to his own tent.

The sight he was met with upon entering made his heart clench a little, in a good way. Arthur had apparently made himself at home on the furs (which, adorable), and shot up in alarm as someone came in. He looked a little bleary-eyed, as if he had been on the brink of falling asleep.

And to top it off, he was wearing one of Alfred’s shirts. It was obviously too big on him, but mostly in length. The sleeves draped over his wrists, and Alfred was sure it functioned as a tunic more than a shirt. Width-wise it was also too big, but it didn’t slide off of his shoulders, so Alfred supposed it would be comfortable enough.

He smiled and approached the furs, sitting down as well. There was more than enough room for two, after all, and after having lived so closely with Arthur for a few weeks he didn’t really feel any reservations about sleeping next to each other.

Not that he was going to be able to sleep much, wanting to keep his promise of watching over Arthur and being to wired up with all kinds of emotions.

He put the food down, preferring Arthur sleep first. If he would eat now, he would sober up more, and then there would be a chance that he would refuse going back to sleep.

“It’s okay, just me. Go back to sleep, okay?” Arthur frowned and looked as if he were going to protest, so Alfred gently put his hand on the man’s chest to push him down again. “I promise I’ll keep watch, nothing will happen to either of us. Now go to sleep.”

Apparently the man had been much more exhausted than he had let on at first, because Arthur didn’t even glare at him. Alfred watched as Arthur’s eyes fluttered shut immediately, and it didn’t take long for the mage’s breath to even out as he fell asleep.

Alfred sighed and drew his legs up so that he could rest his arms on his knees, preparing for the long night he had ahead of him. 

* * *

 

Come morning, Alfred came to two realizations – one, he had fallen asleep, two, Arthur wasn’t in the tent. He still felt exhausted however, and knew that he had managed to at least stay awake until very late into the night. So he had tried, at least.

He sat up and rubbed his face with one hand, other hand searching for the glasses that had fallen off his face in sleep. When he couldn’t find them, he frowned and slowly got off the furs, standing and looking around him.

The glasses were on a stool functioning as a side table nearby him, and he quickly walked over to put them on again. He wasn’t completely blind without them, but everything was much clearer _with_ them.

Only _then_ did he allow himself to freak out – where was Arthur? He wasn’t in the tent. Cold gathered in his stomach and spread to his limbs; that meant Arthur had probably bolted when he had woken up.

It wasn’t very late yet, seeing as no guard came to collect Alfred so that they could continue their journey, but they weren’t very far from the forest.

Arthur could have been awake for hours. He was probably back in the forest by now, with no means for Alfred to ever find him again.

 _Fuck_ , Alfred should have done more last night. He should have convinced the other to stay, should have lied to him about feeling unsafe without him, should have confessed to him that… that what? He wanted him to stay to hold his hand and kiss him? Gah, Alfred felt so childish.

He set about cleaning himself up quickly and a little angrily, noting that the bag with food was at least empty. That meant Arthur had at least eaten something before he left, which was good. He probably needed it. He exited the tent, and saw the guards already boxing all of the stuff up to put back onto the carriages.

He conversed shortly with a guard who told him they wanted to clean up his tent as well now that he was awake (and well, Alfred could do that himself, but they wouldn’t let him). Francis and Basch were sitting around the now quenched fire pit, talking quietly amongst themselves.

Basch noticed him, whilst Francis was looking at some papers in his head, and jerked his head over to the carriages with a frown before turning his attention back to his King. Alfred frowned, wondering what the hell that meant.

He turned around to walk over to the carriages, and promptly felt as if he were punched in the gut.

There, standing in front of one of the carriage, was Arthur. He wasn’t wearing his cloak (Alfred wondered if he had overlooked it still being in the tent? He should pay better attention), still in Alfred’s shirt.

His stave was leaning against his chest and left shoulder, both arms up to- to gently pet one of the horses pulling the carriage. The horse nuzzled one of the mage’s arms a little, nipping at the fabric of his shirt, and Arthur, Arthur had this gentle look in his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he allowed the horse the push at him a little. In one of his hands were pieces of an apple, and he was slowly feeding them to the horse. The horse next to the one Arthur was petting noticed and pushed his head into Arthur’s side impatiently. Arthur actually laughed and offered him some apple too.

Alfred felt a little dumbstruck at the sound. He could probably count the times he had heard Arthur laugh on two hands - usually because of magical creatures or when Alfred did something stupid like tripping over vines of a plant. But he had never heard him sound so... unguarded. It was probably because Arthur thought no one could hear him.

He shook himself out of his trance and approached the horses and mage. If Arthur was bothered with him approaching, he didn’t show it. His smile lessened a bit, but the fond look in his eyes didn’t dissipate, still focused on the horses.

“I have seen these animals, once or twice.” Arthur eventually said, as Alfred carefully carded his hands through the horse’s mane to alert it of his arrival. “I rode in a carriage, once too, pulled by horses. I never thought I would see one again.”

“I thought you had left.” Alfred said after watching Arthur interact with the horses a bit more.  

“I wanted to.” Arthur admitted, straightening up as he fed his last bit of apple to the more neglected horse of the pair.

“Why didn’t you?” Alfred asked, holding his breath for the answer. Arthur shuffled a little as he grabbed his stave in one hand again, instead of letting it lean against him.

“As I mentioned before; there were no more traces of the Joker in the forest. I asked around, but he has disappeared into thin air. Unsure of his location, knowing that you would be on the road…”

He was worried – a fact he had already shared once or twice since his arrival, but it still managed to lift Alfred’s spirits up.

“So you are coming with me? To Spades?”

Arthur hesitated for a moment, before nodding. “Until you reach the capital. There I will take my leave.”

It was better than nothing, Alfred supposed. And perhaps he could convince Arthur in the coming two, three days that he should stay with him nonetheless. There was more hope than before, right? Alfred offered a bright grin – things might work out all right, after all.

He nodded to no one in particular, and quickly turned around to go and bring the news to his fellow monarchs. They probably wouldn’t like the news very much, but they would just have to accept it. Besides, in the long term, it probably really would be safer with Arthur around. So far as Alfred was aware, no one in their travelling group had an adequate grip on magic. Should they encounter the Joker, they now at least could counter him with more than just swords and… running.

For a second that thought chilled him a little. The Kingdoms really did not have a lot of soldiers who had enough skills in magic. They mostly had healers, but on the offensive? Spades was most powerful when it came to magic, but that still included mostly healers and defenders, not people who could use their magic to attack. That was a side effect from the stigma surrounding magic, he knew, but it would put them at a severe disadvantage.

And if the Joker would be bold enough to attack the capital, and Arthur was no longer there… than they had to rely on their weapons and running, once more.

He vowed again that he would do things a little differently as King of Spades concerning the topic of magic. Maybe that might even convince Arthur to stay at his court, too.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred comes to terms with his feelings, has awkward conversations, and some more lore and semi fluff lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man I am on a sugar high and I did not proofread this chapter so I apologize for mistakes and also please point them out to me so I can correct them lol

Even with the arrival of Arthur, travelling in the carriage was still a bore.

Some part of him had wished Arthur to sit with him in the carriage, but it was very clear from the moment they met that Francis and Arthur were not ever going to be able to get along. Well, Francis had at least made an effort to be friendly with the mage. And with friendly, Alfred meant that Francis didn’t insult him or ignore him.

Arthur however had no qualms with showing everyone exactly what he thought of them, royal or not. So far he threatened a couple of soldiers to turn them into frogs (Alfred was mostly sure that Arthur couldn’t do that, but it did the trick and the soldiers backed off) and he had called both Francis and Basch a variety of names by now.

Secretly Alfred _loved_ it, loved seeing someone treat the monarchs as normal people, but he didn’t show his true feelings.

He had therefore invited Arthur to sit in the other carriage with him – the one that was actually used by Basch when he wasn’t riding a horse. Arthur had remarked that his stave couldn’t fit in the carriage, which led to another argument between Arthur and the Jack; was Arthur allowed to keep his stave with him all the time?

After a few (empty) threats, Alfred ended the argument with claiming that Arthur had to keep it with him if he were to help protect Alfred. Basch couldn’t argue that, and even though Arthur wanted to make a snide remark (Alfred could just _see_ it), he kept quiet too.

Alfred didn’t even ask about Arthur riding a horse, either, because he was certain that Arthur wouldn’t know how to. And for a first time, a long ride like this would not be easy on the lower body.

Out of options, the monarchs and the mage fell silent. The soldier riding Alfred’s and Francis’ carriage, a greying man, came over and invited Arthur to sit on top of the carriage with him. The mage didn’t seem very inclined and actually _looked_ over to Alfred for approval (which made Alfred feel immensely strange). Alfred figured there was no other option, so he nodded and soon they were on their way again.

Because of the earlier delay which came in the form of their arguments, Francis told him they wouldn’t be stopping anywhere until sunset. Which meant that he was in for a long day. A long day with knowing that Arthur was practically in arm’s reach, and yet he wasn’t.

It made Alfred feel jittery. He wanted to talk to Arthur, wanted to ask him questions and wanted to tell him about his time at the palace of Diamonds. He _missed_ the mage, damn it, and it was likely that Arthur was going to be gone again once they reached the capitol. Alfred wanted to spend every waking minute with him now that he could.

He wasn’t able to focus on the landscapes, even though he really wanted to. It had been an hour or two since they actually crossed the border to Spades, but the landscapes were still not very familiar to him. He had never been this far south of his own country, and it still carried a lot of traits he recognized in Diamonds. 

At least the weather would mellow the more they would travel inwards. Already the sun was less biting, and already had Francis started complaining about the cold, the other man used to high temperatures.

Alfred kept silent during most of the ride, only answering Francis whenever he remarked on something or asked some question. He was focused only on trying to hear what Arthur and the soldier were talking about. He knew they were conversing; he could hear their low murmurs. He couldn’t hear what, though, even though he strained to do so.

Somewhere he felt a little jealous. Not only was Arthur socializing with someone (other than him), but he sounded semi relaxed. Which didn’t make sense to Alfred – it had taken Alfred _days_ for the mage to open up to him, and now he was making friends already with some old Diamonds soldier?!

It felt awful – he wanted to be the one up there, but no, instead he was stuck here with Francis. At least the other King noticed Alfred’s sour mood and kept his mouth shut most of the ride.

The only good thing about this ride was that Alfred had been able to doze off a little. The gentle rocking of the carriage combined with the little sleep he managed to catch the night before, had him closing his eyes somewhere around the afternoon. It wasn’t really sleep however, because he was aware of everything around him still.

He even heard Arthur _chuckle_ once, and the expression that developed on his face (of what, jealousy? Bewilderment?) made Francis raise one eyebrow at him. He hoped the other man would ignore it, but luck wasn’t on his side.

“What exactly is your relationship with the mage?”

Alfred cringed – why did the other man had to be so direct about it? He could at least sugar coat his questions a little.

“ _Arthur_ is my friend.” Alfred replied, emphasizing the name of the other. Was he his friend though? Alfred thought so, but he wasn’t sure if Arthur felt the same. He probably did, though, right? Alfred wasn’t going to doubt it. They were friends, case closed.

“Is that all you want him to be, then?” Alfred felt his face heat up – was he that obvious? He liked to believe he wasn’t.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

At his comment, Francis’ his face turned a bit mischievous, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I am asking whether or not you want to get your hands into _Arthur’s_ pants _._ ”

“I- _what?!”_ Alfred spluttered, feeling as if his face exploded with how warm it got. He should have expected this – the other man was so crass. But still, the nerve to so openly suggest something like that! “Don’t be insane, we’re- he’s just my- Arthur is not- we’re not-“

“My goodness, I didn’t ask you if you wanted to marry him, only if you wanted to fuck-“

“If I wanted to _-_ stop talking, please!” He was aware he was talking rather loudly, and fiercely hoped that nobody (Arthur) had heard this little outburst of theirs. Francis was outwardly snickering into his hand, eyes full of mirth. That bastard.

“I can’t say I approve of your taste, but to each his own I suppose.” The other King continued on without reservation. “Have you ever had sex before?”

“Oh my god, Francis I am _not_ talking about this with you.” Alfred resisted hiding his burning face behind his hands like a teenager, instead glaring daggers at the other man. Francis sighed.

“Teasing aside, Alfred. Answer my question, if you will. I am merely concerned for your well-being. I do not wish you to be hurt or fall ill, simply because your hormones run wild.”

This was _immensely_ awkward, and Alfred wanted to throw open the door of the carriage and bolt straight into the forest. He’d walk right into the arms of the Joker. Literally anything else would be preferable to this. But he supposed Francis did look genuinely concerned. It took a few breaths to steel himself for the horrible conversation to come, but he managed.

“I… No, I haven’t. I’ve fooled around, but… well, no.”

He applauded himself for not stumbling over his words too much, and was extremely grateful that Francis didn’t look at him mockingly or with pity. He wasn’t ashamed of it either – he was young and he was kind of a romanticist, what with wanting to meet his Queen first. But… well, along came Arthur, and yeah.

“Are you at least familiar of the differences between bedding a woman and bedding a man?”

“I don’t know – nor do I _need_ to know – the specific details, but yeah, I know enough. I’m not ten, man, I’m nineteen. I’ve had _the_ talk and all.”

“Your mother gave you the talk about having sex with another man?” Francis asked with surprise, his eyebrows raised. Alfred internally cursed. Whilst such relations were not frowned upon in Spades or any other Kingdom as far as he was aware, it was still less common.

Alfred had never thought of himself being attracted to only one gender, and neither had his brother or a fair deal of his friends. He had fooled around with boys and girls alike, yet his mother had seen it necessary only to give him that dreaded talk concerning girls because they could actually get pregnant. He and his brother had been sixteen and they had been _mortified._

“No, well, not really. But I was young, I was curious, I got my hands on books and I heard stuff. Can we please stop talking about this now? I promise I won’t get hurt or pregnant.”

Francis laughed freely at that last comment, prompting Alfred to give a small smile of his own. The tension of the conversation bled away slowly, and Alfred was relieved to feel his face cool down. A little, because Francis wasn’t letting up on the Arthur subject just yet.

“But you do like the mage, no?” Alfred let his silence speak for him, and Francis understood. “Does he know?”

“No, of course not. I don’t know if you noticed, but he’s kind of easily spooked. He’s returning to the forest the moment we reach the capital. I… I don’t want to make things weird, okay.”

“He is certainly a figure,” Francis said as agreement, even though it sounded a bit more degrading that Alfred admitting the other was easily spooked. He let it slide, not in the mood for bickering. “but why not tell him all the same? He might surprise you.”

“You’ve read too many of those novels, old man.”

“I resent that.” Francis glared and stuck up his nose a little, royal fashion. “In less than three days you will be thrown into a world full of politics and war, Alfred. And whilst I don’t necessarily _trust_ Arthur, I can see he would not hurt _you._ I am not so sure about the rest of us.”

“You and me both.” Alfred agreed, delighting in Francis’ sour face at that.

“What I am saying is, enjoy these last few nights of freedom. Especially if your friend is disappearing again, soon.”

With that, the conversation was apparently over, Francis returning to the book he had previously been reading. Alfred frowned and settled to gaze out of the windows again, mulling Francis’ words over in his head.

First, he was oddly touched. Francis obviously did not begrudge him his friendship with Arthur, even if he was wary. He even encouraged him to act on his feelings, and Alfred did not know for certain whether that was because Francis was wise in these matters or because Francis read too many novels, but it felt nice all the same.

Secondly, what he said _was_ true, in a way. If Arthur was indeed going to return to the forest after seeing him to the capital… he might never see Arthur again. He had felt terrible during the month he had been separated from the mage; angry with himself for not telling Arthur how he felt, in hopes that it might have had convinced Arthur to stay with him. He would likely feel terrible _again_ if the same happened.

But Alfred already knew he wasn’t going to do it. He didn’t want Arthur to think that he would only confess to having feelings for him because he wanted Arthur to stay. And he knew already that Arthur would make that conclusion – Alfred would do the same, if he were in his shoes.

And what if Arthur didn’t feel the same? He might push him away with confessing, right? At least if they parted on the terms of being friends… maybe Arthur would visit him once or twice, or maybe Alfred could visit him in the forest. But if he destroyed whatever friendship they had with his stupid feelings, then that wouldn’t be an option.

And besides, even if he was going to confess, and even if Arthur felt the same and would then stay for him? What then? Alfred was going to be King, was going to have to marry some Queen. He knew Kings and Queens and Jacks could have lovers, almost all of them did, but still. He had an inkling that Arthur would be more old fashioned than that. Or maybe not. He didn’t even know Arthur all that well, after all.

Damn, this was messing with his head. He hoped Matthew would be proud with how mature he was being. Or maybe Matthew would hit him over the head and advise the same as Francis. He didn’t know what to do, honestly, so he decided to just go with whatever was going on right now.

When the sun started to set, the carriages finally slowed down. Basch rode up to them and explained that they had found a clearing in the area they had been in that would be a safe option, strategically speaking. They were surrounded by trees and other foliage, not very far from civilization if the roads and signs Alfred had seen were any indication.

Alfred jumped out of the carriage the moment he could, groaning as he stretched his limbs. He eyed the people around him. Almost immediately soldiers got to work to remove the luggage from the carriage so that they could set up camp.

The horses were released from the carriages and with a frown Alfred noticed that Arthur joined the older soldier into leading the horses somewhere else to feed, drink and rest. He wasn’t even holding the horse by its rein, instead resting a hand on the horses side.

So magical animals weren’t alone in being comfortable with the mage. That thought made Alfred smile a bit.

Instead of following them, like he sorely wanted to, Alfred set about to make himself useful despite the soldiers complaining that a monarch should not exert himself so. Idly he noticed that Basch actually looked approving of him, so that was a plus at least.

After they got everything set up, some soldiers set of to hunt for dinner so that they could have something other to eat than the bland dinner they had the night before. Basch wanted to involve Alfred in some discussion about routes, but Francis waved him off with a smirk, knowing the other wanted to get away.

The campsite wasn’t too big, because neither was the clearing they were in . The tents set up across from each other, flanked by the trees. From his position he could see the carriages and the horses, standing a little off from the road.

Fire pits were installed randomly, one big one near the beginning of the camp site for the cooking. On the other side of the site, there was a small stream. Coincidentally, that was also where Arthur was, the older soldier of before nowhere to be seen. Alfred smiled at having found his friend and quickly made his way over, not wanting to be interrupted.

Arthur was kneeling as he filled his flask. As Alfred approached, he also saw him frowning a little. And…

“Why is your- do you have a _sunburn_?” Arthur scowled at him. Closer to the mage, Alfred could now see that Arthur’s nose was bright red. His cheeks were dusted with red as well. He swallowed commenting on its adorableness, and instead asked if it hurt.

“It won’t for long. I’ll heal it with some water.”

“We probably have a salve for it too. You know, to prevent it from happening again.” Alfred said sweetly, watching as Arthur cupped his hands in the water. He made it glow for a while, applying it to his face. As he had said, most of the redness was gone when he stood up again.

That must come in handy, even though Alfred hadn’t had a sunburn in years. Working on the land helped you with building a resistance, but it did give him a tan that Basch once commented on ‘was more becoming of a farmer than of a monarch’.

_Which, he kind of was, so suck it up Basch._

He never even thought about how Arthur would probably get sunburns. There was no sun in the forest, even though it was eerily light at times. Would Arthur be susceptible to more things, like the common cold? He’d have to be watchful for that.

Arthur had risen to his full height, drying his flask with the edge of his shirt before closing it and hanging it back on his belt.

“So,” Alfred began nonchalantly, kicking some rocks into the water. “you and that soldier seemed cosy.”

 _Wow, smooth_. Alfred resisted cringing at himself. He was immensely glad seeing Arthur’s expression didn’t change – he hadn’t noticed.

“He has a daughter of eleven, and she has been showing a predisposition to magic. He was curious.”

“What did he want to know?”

Alfred couldn’t help himself as he felt a little left out. That was strange of him to think, and he realized it, but still. At his insistence, Arthur did frown a little this time.

“He asked basic questions, really, about manifestations, effects, spells… Hardly anything that would interest you.”

Well, excuse him - Alfred felt a little offended. True, he hadn’t ever been as invested in magic as much as he had been since meeting Arthur, but he was totally curious now.

“Hey, I am interested! Every time I asked about things, you blew me off or acted all mysterious. What, is that guy special enough to know all your supernatural secrets?”

Arthur raised his eyebrows slightly at that, and Alfred did not manage to withhold this cringe this time.

“You are unhappy,” Arthur said, frowning a little. “about me talking to that man?”

It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement. Alfred bit his cheek – how was he going to save himself out of this one? With keeping his dignity intact, that is.

“No, no,” he began, raising his hands nervously. “I’m not, no. I just, eh… I just didn’t expect you to… I don’t know. I am, I don’t know, a little… surprised? With you being social. Well, with you being social with _other_ people. You’re social enough with me, I guess.”

Oh man, he was rambling.

“Are you jealous?” Arthur said it without any malicious content – he sounded sincerely curious, and Alfred felt his face warm up immediately. _Busted_. “Do you wish me to be friendly with only you?”

“ _Yes!_ I mean, _no_. I want you to be friendly with me. But you being friendly with others is also good. I just didn’t expect it.” 

A short silence followed with Arthur scrutinizing Alfred, and that only prompted him to continue rambling.

“I guess I kind of have to get used to you also getting to know other people and not just relying on me or whatever. _Not_ that you rely on me, if anything I rely on you.”

“Alfred,” Arthur eventually interrupted, successfully shutting the other man up. Alfred was immensely grateful, especially because Arthur sounded a little fond and not annoyed. “I am not interested in getting to know anyone. The man asked questions, I responded.”

“Okay, good. Well, not good, you should totally socialize. But, do what you want, of course. Can we please stop talking?”

Alfred ended his talk with the comment sounding rather desperate and exasperated, but it had the right effect. Arthur raised his hand to hide half his face behind it and let out a small bubble of laughter.

It quelled Alfred’s nerves, and left him to stare at the other with wonder. Arthur looked _adorable_ when he did that. He always made an attempt of hiding his face when he was amused or had to laugh, whether by turning away or hiding behind his hand of hair.

His nose and cheeks were still tinged slightly red, and he must have had enough rest (or had enough time to properly restore his magic), because the bags underneath his eyes weren’t as prominent as they had been the night before. Alfred admitted to himself that even when they had been, he still thought of Arthur as unconventionally beautiful.

 _By the heavens_ , he was such a lovesick little puppy, and he wasn’t even embarrassed to admit it anymore (well, not out loud).  

“I missed you.” Alfred blurted out, voice not much louder than a whisper.

Okay, so maybe he did admit to other embarrassing things out loud.

Arthur’s laughter abruptly stopped at the confession, the mage eyeing him not with suspicion but with something Alfred couldn’t entirely place. He expected Arthur to make a sarcastic comment or to tease him. What he didn’t expect was Arthur’s eyes to lock onto what Alfred had to assume were his own lips, the mage taking a small shuffle closer and lowering his arm.

He felt his breath catch in his throat by the sudden change of atmosphere, eyes focused on Arthur’s expression. It was guarded, but… he didn’t know what else. There was something that made Alfred’s stomach feel fluttery.

“I…” Arthur said, his voice as soft as Alfred’s had been. “You have been on my mind a lot, recently.”

Alfred felt like he couldn’t breathe –the moment felt extremely fragile. Had Arthur ever been so honest with his feelings? He couldn’t remember. There had so often been a snarky tone to his words to hide his true feelings during the few moments they discussed more personal things.

“Is that you saying you missed me too?”

Alfred tried to make light of the situation by switching his voice to a more teasing tone, because right now the moment felt heavy. It weighed on him, made him feel like he was expected to do something, but he didn’t know if he was ready for that.

Arthur was still looking at something lower than his eyes ( _does he want to?_ ) and Alfred wasn’t sure if he had shuffled even closer, but he was close to him nonetheless.

“It is me saying that your absence irritated me more than your presence.”

He appreciated Arthur returning the attempt to tease, but the words only made Alfred’s stomach do a number of flips.

Arthur’s eyes abruptly switched their gaze onto his, and as if it were a trade, Alfred’s own ones dropped down to the mage’s mouth. In response, or out of nervousness, Arthur bit on his lower lip. Alfred leaned in, despite his inner monologue earlier.

The mage kept as still as a tree, eyes locked onto the other. Alfred managed to get as far as to actually feeling the heat of Arthur’s face on his own, to feeling his soft breath hit his own skin, when they were interrupted by cheering coming from camp.

Alfred stumbled back, trying to look anywhere but at Arthur, who was sporting a rather confused look. Both of them looked back at the camp, but they couldn’t very well see what was going on.

The rational part of Alfred’s mind supplied that they must have been successful in their hunt, and he voiced it to Arthur as they both made their way back to the site. His heart was still thumping wildly in his chest, and he tried to even out his breathing, noticing Arthur didn’t seem very fazed.

“What have they been hunting for?” Arthur asked curiously.

“Wildlife. Deer or maybe a boar. Rabbits maybe, but they’d have to catch a lot to feed all of us properly. Maybe even foxes , but they’re usually only hunted for sport and not for food.”

Alfred wasn’t very familiar with hunting – as teenagers, he and Matthew sometimes joined some of the villagers whilst hunting, but they didn’t like it a lot nor did they really need it. The farm provided all the food they needed, whether it be meat or other.

“You people _kill_ animals for sport?”

He winced a little at the disgust coming from Arthur’s voice, and as he looked over he noticed Arthur’s face had set into a scowl. At least that managed to calm the fluttering of his heart and stomach almost immediately.

He realized he had to tread lightly here – all Arthur ever ate in the forest were fruits, nuts and vegetables. And he would have been too young to be introduced to hunting properly when he still lived outside the forest, Alfred realized.

 “Well, yeah. Some of us do? I don’t know why they do, though I’ve been told it has something to do with adrenaline and the thrill of taking a life.” Arthur’s mood visibly worsened. “I don’t do it, though! We got meat from the animals from our farm.”

“I don’t know if raising animals and then eating them is much better.” At Arthur’s tone, Alfred nervously chuckled.

“Hey man, it’s normal here, okay? I don’t always approve either, especially not with the ‘for fun’ bits. But it’s a circle of life thing, right? We feed them, they feed us…”

“We’ll agree to disagree.” Arthur eventually said, weighing what Alfred said over in his head. “But I have no interest in _eating_ that poor creature _._ ” They walked onto the site, and Arthur pointed at the deer carcass which was now being skinned with a glare. It was probably not helping that soldiers were bragging about their kill.

“No problem.” Alfred easily agreed. The sight for him wasn’t uncommon – he often had to skin the animals they had to slaughter for food back at home – but he could understand Arthur. “I’ll get something else for you. Do you, eh, want to… eat together?”

Arthur looked at him strangely.

“Of course? Or would you rather eat with someone else?”

“No! No, good. I’ll get our food, then. You just go sit somewhere?” He took the opportunity to bolt from Arthur’s side – god, he felt stupid. Of course Arthur was going to have dinner with him, but Alfred had to go ahead and make it weird. Well, at least that meant Arthur preferred his company over being alone or over… the soldier’s company.

Alfred realized jealousy was rearing its ugly head again and this time he softly laughed to himself – he was an idiot. Despite the relaxed conversing he had heard, he knew Arthur wasn’t here to socialize. Hell, Arthur was awkward and wary around everyone in their campsite, everyone but Alfred.

With a jolt he realized that might mean Arthur was again going to sleep in his tent again tonight. It didn’t make him very nervous – they had slept side by side for many nights already. But it did warm his insides pleasantly, especially now that he had made more peace with his feelings than before. It wouldn’t change anything, of course, but any opportunity he saw to spend time with the mage, he would take.

He got their food (deciding on not taking any meat for himself either, despite how good it smelled, not wanting to incite Arthur’s wrath) and brought it over to the edge of the camp site. Arthur had managed to find a somewhat secluded spot that could still be watched by the others, but wouldn’t force them to interact with anyone.

Arthur eyed his food with a smirk, and Alfred internally laughed, but they didn’t talk about the hunting topic anymore. Their conversation instead drifted off to Alfred telling Arthur about the Diamonds palace in great detail, remembering how Arthur had been fascinated with the details of the Spades palace. He told him about the library, which prompted him to grab his fairy tale book out of his bag.

They weren’t sitting near a fire, but Arthur’s eyes were glowing slightly and Alfred knew he was using magic to keep himself warm. The mage never preferred fires, knowing that they could grow disastrous in the forest.

 Knowing he did so in the forest before, Alfred huddled a little closer to the mage as he sat down with the book. As expected, Arthur didn’t move and allowed Alfred to borrow the warm atmosphere he had created for himself.

He opened the book randomly, and found it had opened on a passage about mermaids. Arthur would probably _love_ that story – after all, as far as Alfred knew there were no real mermaids, in the forest or not. There might be in the oceans, but he doubted Arthur knew that.

He was halfway through explaining the myths and tales, when he noticed Arthur looking at the book with a rather difficult expression. It only then occurred to him…

“Can you read?”

Arthur looked a little embarrassed, but didn’t seem angry or ashamed.

“A little. I have learned it when I was young. In the forest, I never had to read common tongue again.”

Common tongue? Alfred was a little confused – it was true that the four kingdoms shared one language (to make politics easier), which was Spades’ original language. The languages native to the other kingdoms did sometimes stick with the people there, but more and more people only spoke common tongue now. Alfred didn’t have to ask.

“The creatures in the forest have more than one language.” Arthur elaborated, still looking at the book. “I focused more on learning to read theirs, than these.” His fingers drifted over some of the letters in the book.

That made sense. Even if Alfred wondered why he would have to _read_ anything; did those creatures send each other letters? He figured it must be a magic thing, what with the symbols on Arthur’s stave being foreign.

“Do you want to borrow the book? You can ask me when you don’t understand something.”

“No, I imagine I might be cross with the inaccuracies.” Arthur said, making Alfred smile sheepishly. “You can read it to me if you want to, however.”

Alfred wasted no time in doing just that – if only because he loved the moments Arthur would get upset with an inaccuracy about trolls or faeries. He bickered with the book and calling the author of it a git, and it was immensely amusing. It also got Arthur to open up a bit more about the creatures, countering any inaccuracy he found with the truth, and Alfred eagerly took all of the new facts in.

A while passed, and eventually Alfred noticed other soldiers turning in for the night and others leaving to stand watch. Francis was already in his tent, but Basch was still out, pretending not to watch Alfred and Arthur out of the corner of his eye. Alfred rolled his eyes.

“We should probably turn in for the night.” He said, albeit reluctantly, closing the book on his lap. It was getting too dark to read anyway.

Arthur straightened from where he had _almost_ slumped against Alfred’s side. It was obvious that he was still exhausted, even if he was less so than the night before. Arthur nodded, following Alfred inside his tent and went to the sides to cast his trusty barriers. Alfred didn’t bother with protesting that they would be safe, instead washing his face and putting out the candles inside of the tent.

It took significantly less time than before for Arthur to finish up, but he was visibly more tired than before from doing so. He didn’t bother washing his face, instead heading over to the furs and dropping down on them immediately.

Alfred laughed a little and settled down on the other side of the furs. Surprisingly enough, Arthur didn’t bicker with him about keeping awake to keep watch, neither did he expect Alfred to do so. He did stay awake for a while longer though, eyes tiredly watching Alfred as he turned on his side to face him.

“Did you mean it?” Arthur asked, eventually, voice soft. At Alfred’s confused silence, he grimaced, as if he didn’t want to say what he was going to say. “When you said you missed me.”

Oh.

Alfred felt his face heat up a little, and was immensely thankful that it was too dark to really see. He wriggled a little under his blanket, also grateful that they both had one and did not have to share. Imagine having to fight with a mage because he hogged the blankets (according to Matthew, that is).

“Yeah,” Alfred decided on being honest. “Of course I did.”

“You’ve known me for a total of thirty days.” Arthur replied dryly.

“I could say the same to you, mister ‘your-absence-annoyed-me’.” Arthur huffed indignantly at his teasing words, but didn’t move away.

“Sometimes I do wonder why the only human I befriended after all those years had to be you.” Alfred noticed the word ‘befriended’ out of all those other words the most, but he tried not to let it show how happy that made him. Arthur had said it so nonchalantly, too.

“Hey, I am an amazing human being, just so you know.”

“Really.”

“I could tell you all the reasons why, but frankly said I am a little offended right now so I am not going to bother.”

“Idiot.”

His earlier words had the desired effect and made Arthur chuckle sleepily after the empty insult. Alfred watched as Arthur moved to lie on his back and closed his eyes, on his way to welcome sleep. He smiled and allowed sleep to come to him, as well.


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur also appears to come to terms with some of his feelings, with the help of a little liquid courage!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I tried proofreading this, but my computer died on me twice... so I got fed up with it and decided to just post this and go to bed hhbhjhhjgbk

Upon hearing from Francis and Basch that they would have to take a detour, one that would prolong their journey by a day or two, he felt a little conflicted.

Originally they had planned to arrive at the capitol somewhere around midnight. But this detour meant that he still wasn’t any closer to seeing his twin and their mother. With each day, knowing he was so close, he started missing them more and more until it almost became unbearable. At least he was assured of them being safe, most likely already in the palace. That, the presence of his friend, and Francis and Basch distracting him helped him through the worst of his anxiety.

 _Two more days._ That’s what Francis had told him. Not even a full two days, if Basch deemed the  roads safe enough to travel the last sprint at night.

However, spending more time on the road also meant more time with Arthur, more time to perhaps convince the mage to stay with him. And for that, Alfred felt happy. Since their moment at the river the night before, something shifted.

The morning after that moment, Alfred had woken up insanely early for some godforsaken reason. Arthur had been peacefully snoozing still, so Alfred snuck out of the tent and with some persuasion, had been roped into sword-training with Basch.

The Jack’s way of teaching was harsh loving, and after an hour or so Alfred was sweating buckets and ready to claim defeat. He had ditched his shirt half an hour ago, it being a particularly warm day for Spades. He had no qualms with baring his mark on the campsite, as the soldiers and the Jack did not even look at him twice for it.

As he was getting ready to admit defeat however, he did eventually had a feeling that someone was watching him. It was probably Francis, the man often coming down from his study while they were in Diamonds to watch the two men train, to gauge Alfred his progress.

He was about to turn around to tell Francis to stop leering, when he halted, almost tripping over his feet. It wasn’t Francis sitting on a log and staring at him, but Arthur.

He had his stave on his lap and a knife in one of his hands, which indicated he might have been carving symbols into it again. But his movements were still and his eyes were on Alfred – and with a jolt Alfred realized his entire expression screamed appreciative. The moment Arthur noticed that Alfred was watching him in return, however, he scowled and set his attention back to his stave.

But the damage had been done already, and Alfred puffed his chest out in pride, preparing to pummel the Jack into the ground to show off.

Needless to say, Basch had pummelled  _him_  into the ground, but it didn’t destroy his good mood for the rest of the day, even if Arthur had promptly fled when Alfred made his way over.

He spent most of the day mulling over what had happened that morning and also the night before, grateful that it kept his mind away from missing his family too much. Fortunately, Francis had offered another consolation – instead of camping, they would spend the night at an inn in a village.

Apparently Basch had fought him on it; it was much too great a risk according to him, someone could recognize Alfred or the Diamonds monarchs and could tip off the Joker. They could even just innocently gossip amongst each other, and news could still get to the Joker.

Francis managed to reassure his Jack however, explaining they would dress more like commoners. After all, the people were commoners as well, days removed from the capital. It was most likely that they wouldn’t recognize the monarchs if they weren’t dressed like it. And Alfred could blend in, he figured, he had grown up amongst these kind of people.

He was actually more worried about how Arthur would fare in an actual village, not over whether or not they were going to be recognized.

Right now, they were taking a small break on the side of the road leading towards the village, and it would take another few hours before they got there.

Around them, wide patches of farming land stretched out as far as he could see. It made him feel more at home, and he hadn’t realized how homesick he had been until that moment. Alfred sighed wistfully as he remembered his home, knowing that he would never call it home again. He might return there for visits, sure, but the palace would be his home starting in two days. 

He made his way over to Arthur, who was feeding one of the horses pieces of an apple again. It was clear that he had chosen a favourite horse, and it was kind of endearing. He had even gone through the trouble of asking the old soldier who rode with him earlier his name.

Alfred smiled as he caught Arthur cooing it to the horse softly, gently carding one of his own hands through the horse’s mane. He didn’t seem tense when Alfred approached, for which Alfred was glad. At least that meant this morning wouldn’t develop into something awkward.

“Isn’t she just magnificent?” Arthur asked him, eyes full of wonder as he looked at the horse. Its intelligent eyes were focused on Arthur as well, and even though Alfred had always been told not to have a stare contest with a horse, Arthur seemed to be doing fine.

“Wait until you see an elephant, or a lion.” Alfred teased. He had seen them once as a kid in a circus, and had been immensely amazed by the powerful creatures. Unfortunately, they weren’t around in the wild anymore, haven’t been for years.

“What are those?”

Alfred pondered on how he should explain it. The lion he explained easily as a large feline, Arthur at least knew what cats looked like. The elephant however… Alfred didn’t came much farther than a huge creature with big ears and a long trunk. Arthur didn’t look any less confused, but didn’t press it.

“You have those at your palace?”

“Not  _at_ the palace, they’re usually in the circus or in sanctuaries. I could take you to one of those sometime, if you want to.”

He meant for the invitation to hold no assumptions over Arthur’s decision to go or stay, but he supposed he sounded a little hopeful. Arthur only furrowed his eyebrows at him however, opting to look back at the horse instead of replying.

He surprised him, however, by not diverting the subject entirely.

“What other animals would you show me?”

Alfred was momentarily stunned – did this mean Arthur had been thinking about staying? He wasted no time in explaining more glorious animals such as giraffes, and delved into the topic of sea creatures and the ocean. Alfred had been to the ocean once in his entire lifetime, and had promised himself to come back to it once he was king and was able to do so.

When he explained the ocean, Arthur’s eyes got a little far-off, as if he were imagining it in his mind but couldn’t quite conjure up a correct image.

“I wouldn’t be able to swim,” Arthur eventually said, as Alfred delved into explaining how he and Matthew had dived to look at the ocean’s reef when they had visited. “I never learnt how.”

There had been deep enough rivers and lakes in the forest to swim in, Alfred remembered, but he had never actually seen Arthur go deep enough into them. He wasn’t surprised – why would he have learned? It didn’t seem a necessary skill set to have in the forest.

“I could teach you. Or we could get Matthew to teach you, he has more affinity with water than I do.” At that last confession, Arthur looked humoured, and Alfred counted it as another win; Arthur had already seemed interested in meeting his brother before.

Arthur wasn’t given a chance to answer properly, however, Basch calling out to announce that they would continue travelling. Alfred reluctantly parted from Arthur once at the carriage, climbing into it as the other climbed on top of it.   
  


* * *

 

The village they were staying in for the rest of the night was rather small. It was obvious that it was the hub for all the farming lands around it, but it only held the bare minimum of necessities. There was a bakery and some other stores, a library that had seen better days, a school that was currently closed, multiple stables and an inn.

Still, it felt infinitely better to stay amongst people other than the Diamonds soldiers for once, and despite it being small it did feel lively. It was also an improvement on camping, Alfred decided.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred noticed Arthur slipping into the inn’s stables. He smiled – the mage was simply amazed by the majestic animals, and he couldn’t really blame him. As far as Alfred knew, there were no animals like horses anywhere in the forest. Or perhaps they were, but they were probably far less gentle.

Seeing as there was no task for him to attend to, he decided to follow his friend into the stables, figuring someone would come and get him if necessary. It wasn’t completely filled with horses, especially because theirs aren’t in the stables yet, but there were a few. Arthur was at the back of the stables, petting a brown and white mare, and an idea occurred to Alfred.

“Do you want to ride one?”

Arthur started a little, and Alfred wondered if the mage hadn’t heard him coming in. Arthur frowned at him then, as if he did not understand the question.

“A horse. You’ve never been on a horse, right? If you want I can… well, we can ride one together for starters.” Alfred finished, deciding that maybe throwing Arthur on a horse from the start wouldn’t be a good idea

“Right now?” Arthur asked, sounding a little hesitant. He watched as the mage looked at the animals again, and Alfred supposed that despite their gentleness, they were also a little intimidating.

“Well, no, but maybe when we reach the capitol? They have pastures and trails we can use.”

“You keep making promises to show me things once we arrive at our destination.”

Arthur kept looking at the horse in front of him instead of Alfred as he murmured the words. His hands were no longer on the mare, but encircled his stave tightly. Alfred resisted clearing his throat nervously, instead shrugging even if the mage wasn’t looking at him.

“Well, I can’t really show you a lot right here and now.”

“That’s not the only reason.”

Alfred knew Arthur knew that it was only half of the truth – Alfred hoped that by promising Arthur all kinds of new stuff, the mage would be convinced into staying. He decided not to reply, letting his silence speak volumes, and Arthur turned to frown at him again.

Whatever he was going to say was however interrupted by Basch entering the stables, grumbling to himself. As Alfred turned to meet him, a key was pushed into his hand. The advantages of being a monarch obviously meant that he was going to have a room to himself, and Alfred cheered mentally.

“Why the long face?” He asked with a laugh, seeing Basch his face was even more stoic than usual. Basch ignored him, setting his attention to Arthur instead.

“You’re going to have to leave your stave at the carriage.”

Alfred swore he could  _heard_ the hair on Arthur’s neck bristle in response, but Basch wasn’t giving the mage a chance to complain.

 “Look, the people here are not used to that kind of thing, okay?” Basch had a point – the idea of excitement around here was probably the first day of school. “I can’t have people start asking questions because of you.”

Alfred supposed that Basch could have at least tried sounding less rude, but he had a point. They were supposed to blend in a little, appear as merchants or travellers and not as anything suspicious. A mage, one looking as out of place as Arthur did with his stave, would fuel gossip.

“I am  _not_ leaving my stave in the hands of your men.” Arthur countered, and Alfred gave Basch a look that he hoped implied that he would handle it. Basch seemed to understand but didn’t leave, looking at Alfred expectantly.

“Basch, are you going to sleep at the inn, too?” Alfred eventually decided on asking, and to his satisfaction Basch shook his head. “Okay, so Arthur, you could give it to Basch. He’s the Jack, you can trust him.”

“ _You_ may trust him, Alfred, but I don’t.”

Alfred sighed – he understood where Arthur was coming from, he really did, but this was a little tiring by now. He had no problem with Arthur not wanting to socialize with the others, and he was absolutely fine (maybe a bit too much) with Arthur being glued to him most of the times, but he wished Arthur would believe him when he said that he could at least trust Basch and Francis.

“You know what? Fine.” Basch sounded more tired than annoyed. “Wrap your stave in your cloak, bring it up to your room,” Alfred’s face heated up as apparently it was already common knowledge that Arthur and Alfred shared a room. “And leave it there, under lock and key. Otherwise, you can stay outside with the lot of us.”

Arthur wanted to argue, obviously, but he also realized that was the best choice he was going to get, so he nodded reluctantly. Alfred was immensely glad the situation was dealt with this easily, and he sent off a grateful look at the Jack, but Basch had already turned to leave the stables.

He waited for Arthur so that they could leave the stables together, heading over to the carriages to grab Arthur’s cloak. He kept silent and watched Arthur wrap it around his stave – it his most of it out of view, even though the bottom stuck out.

Anyone who would really pay attention would still recognize it for what it was, but as he handed Arthur the key once they were inside, Arthur darted up the stairs fast enough that nobody really noticed.

Instead of following him up, Alfred made his way to seat himself at one of the tables of the inn. He was wondering whether or not Arthur was going to come back down, or if it would be too much interaction for him. Francis dropped himself into one of the chairs at his table as well, motioning for someone to bring them something to eat and drink.

The inn wasn’t terribly busy, and Alfred recognized most of its inhabitants as travellers and merchants. Most of the villagers were probably at home by now, and whilst there was a constant of silent chatter, it was peaceful in a way. It felt familiar to Alfred, who grew up in a noisy household.

They were joined by a few soldiers who sat on Alfred’s left and Francis’ right, and Alfred was already halfway through the meal he had been brought when he suddenly noticed Arthur slinking down the stairs and depositing himself into the empty chair on Alfred’s right. He frowned a little, keeping his head down a little, shuffling his chair closer to Alfred’s in a way that showed that he believed Alfred didn’t notice.

He felt his face heat up a little at the knowing smirk Francis send him, but he kept their earlier conversation running. They were talking about something non trivial really, a festival in Diamonds that occurred every winter, and Alfred managed to keep it going whilst also paying a little attention to Arthur.

Said mage was currently helping himself to the vegetables on Alfred’s plate, the ones he’d pushed to the side (he’d eaten the meat and bread and left the vegetables, and his mother would scold him, but nobody here cared). Alfred smirked and nudged the plate closer to the mage whilst innocently continuing talking to Francis, wondering if he should perhaps call for a plate of food for Arthur as well.

As Francis and Alfred their conversation dwindled, Arthur finished his plate off and pushed it away. The moment coincided with the end of their conversation and Alfred took it as the opportunity to announce that he was going to get more food. Arthur looked a little uncomfortable with being left alone, but didn’t follow and instead turned to Francis when the Diamonds monarch addressed him.

His luck would have it that the kitchen was already closing, so he pulled out all his charms to convince the waitress behind the bar to get him some more scraps, explaining his friend had been too tired to come down on time. A few smiles and a bit of flattery got him everywhere, eventually, though he had to wait for a while.

He leaned against the bar and resisted turning around to look at Arthur. He couldn’t  _hear_ him arguing with Francis, however, so at least that was okay.

The waitress handed him the plate of bread and vegetables, and he smiled broadly at her before returning back to the table and handing Arthur the plate. The mage murmured his gratitude, putting down a cup Alfred assumed Francis had given to him.

“So, what were you guys talking about?” Alfred asked nonchalantly, hoping that the two had at least tried to get along in his short absence.

“Nothing particular!” Francis sing-sang. “I was wondering about the flora and fauna of the forest. Rumours only tell me it is a barren and deadly place.”

“It  _is_ deadly,” Arthur scoffed. “but it is not barren.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen any dead areas, actually.” Alfred said, pondering it over. Sure, there was no fauna there, but the trees were all green and the (albeit deadly) plants and flowers were vivid in colour.

“Safe route, remember?” Arthur reminded him. “There’s been fires, spells gone wrong, poisons… There are enough grey areas full of dust. Coincidentally, full of predators.”

“What predators?” Francis asked, curiosity shining in his eyes. Alfred couldn’t say he wasn’t curious himself. Arthur shrugged.

“Angry spirits. They come in the forms of tree-walkers, giant serpents and spiders, wyverns. Take your pick.”

The words sounded incredibly casual as Arthur picked through his food and sipped from his cup, as if he didn’t just stun the two men next and in front of him with the knowledge. Alfred gulped – those creatures were  _real_  and in the forest? Where  _he_ had been as well?

“And you have seen these creatures?” Francis eventually inquired when Alfred wasn’t done wrapping his head around the information yet.

“Not  _all_  of them, but I have been told by my brothers-“  He abruptly cut himself off, as if he didn’t want to reveal that particular bit of information to anyone. Alfred understood why – because Francis was on the information like a shark who smelled blood.

“Brothers? There are other humans living in the forest?”

Arthur didn’t respond, instead glaring at nothing in particular and emptying his cup in a few big gulps. Francis signalled to have it refilled, and Alfred managed to recover.

“Dude! You’re telling me this now? What if we encountered any of those?!” Arthur gave him a wry smile.

“Most of those predators are far too big to safely or comfortably navigate through the routes I had us take, Alfred. We only needed to steer clear from their territories.” Arthur reassured him, starting to sip from his refilled cup again.

“And you know the locations of their territories?” Francis continued on.

“Most of them.” Arthur replied after a while, eyeing Francis. “Why?”

“I am only speculating how fascinating it would be to lead an expedition into the forest. Mind you, we would have to avoid those dangerous areas of course. But with someone like you at the front-“

“Absolutely not.” Alfred surprised all three of them by interrupting, though Arthur looked as if he were going to disagree as well. “Don’t you think the forest and its inhabitants have suffered enough from people like us venturing into it?”

“Pardon?”

“I- I mean, it used to be such a beautiful place, according to tales. All those years ago. But greedy people burned it down and raided it, right? Because of that, magic creatures are hiding in there instead of living amongst us.”

During his rant, Arthur was looking at him with a barely concealed surprised expression. Alfred idly noticed his cup was empty again (and he hadn’t known Arthur had been so thirsty, had he lost his flask today?), and Francis was frowning at him rather disbelievingly.

“Alfred, those are bedtime stories and speculation. Even if it were true, that was hundreds of years ago.”

“Whatever – the point is that if people would go in there, they would try to colonize it for themselves with any means necessary.” Alfred said, standing his ground. “That’s how people are. And after our already rocky history with magical creatures, we would do well to just leave them alone.”

Francis regarded him silently, and Alfred held his breath, wondering if his little outburst was disrespectful or not. On the other hand, he was to become King of Spades, and that would put him on the same pedestal as Francis.

“I suppose that is true,” Francis eventually said sourly. “I don’t want to give Hearts – or you for that matter – the opportunity to seize even more land, either.”

“Even more?” Arthur inquired quietly, and Alfred noticed he had leaned a bit towards Alfred during his earlier outburst. Alfred frowned – the mage looked oddly relaxed, face showing more expression than usual.

“Diamonds has lost considerable amounts of land to Spades and Hearts in the past.” Alfred explained when he noticed Francis wasn’t going to. “War stuff.”

“How odd to fight amongst yourselves so often.” Arthur said a bit arrogantly, slurring slightly on some of the words.

Francis shook his head to dismiss the subject, signalling for another refill of both his and Arthur’s empty cups. Alfred sighed, noticing he hadn’t even touched his. He grabbed it and took a big gulp of it – and promptly choked on its content.

He had expected it to be water or maybe even ale, not – what even was  _this_? It tasted like wine, but it was a lot stronger than the one he was used to from the Diamonds palace. Francis raised his eyebrows as a waitress filled the cups again.

Slowly, Arthur’s relaxed state made sense. Alfred was hyper aware of the closeness of the mage, of the red colour having attractively settled on his cheeks some while ago. He hadn’t noticed it before, busy with getting food and then this discussion -

He came to the horrifying (and hilarious) realization that Arthur was getting drunk.

 _Of course_ he was; he was fairly sure that this was a rather strong wine, and it wasn’t as if there was any alcohol in the forest. Arthur didn’t have any tolerance, and judging by Francis’ complacent smirk, the other King knew it as well.

As he made that conclusion, he noticed that Arthur was already busy with downing what had to be at least his third or fourth cup of the stuff. And the cups weren’t  _small_  either – Alfred had assumed that it had been water and that Arthur had been thirsty, but damn.

Alfred all but yanked Arthur’s arm down. It caused Arthur to stumble forward, cup almost falling out of his hands. Alfred grabbed it from his hand and sniffed it – definitely wine. He put the cup on the far side of his left, out of Arthur’s reach.

“What are you  _doing_?” Arthur scowled at him.

Francis started laughing behind his own cup, eyes full of mirth as he watched the duo in front of him. Alfred chose the moment to glare at the other.

“Dude, why did you give him this stuff?”

“I wanted to drink that! I like the way it burns…” Arthur complained on his right – and lo and behold, he slumped forward to reach for the cup to Alfred’s left. It meant that he practically pressed his entire upper body against Alfred’s, one hand on Alfred’s leg to steady himself and the other searching blindly behind the other.

“No, no,” Alfred said, pushing Arthur back a little. “You have had more than enough already. Oh my god- Arthur, stop that!”

By now, Francis was outright cackling as Arthur all but crawled onto Alfred’s lap to get what he wanted. Alfred wasn’t only embarrassed by all the physical contact, but also really confused because it usually always seemed to pain Arthur to have physical contact in the first place.

He forced himself to calm down (Arthur was drunk, he wasn’t thinking rationally), and stood up whilst keeping a firm hold on Arthur’s arm. Arthur almost tripped as that meant that he was also pulled up abruptly, stumbling against Alfred as his chair fell down behind him. They were causing quite the ruckus by now, and people were watching them with amusement and curiosity. Alfred wanted a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him.

“We’re turning in for the night.” Alfred said to the other man briskly, tugging Arthur along him as he made his way to the stairs.

He ignored Francis’ hooting ( _be safe!_ ) ( _what does he mean, Alfred?_ ), even if his cheeks heated up immensely. He managed to half drag, half carry Arthur up the stairs without too much struggle. The mage had given up complaining about his drink and was now complaining about Alfred manhandling him, but he followed and once in the safety of their room, Alfred let him go.

Arthur sighed dramatically and stumbled over to the bed to sit at the end of it.

Right, and now? Alfred wasn’t  _that_ tired yet. Perhaps he should lock Arthur up in the room and go down again.

Then again, was it  _really_ a good idea to lock a drunk mage in a room? What if Arthur set the room on fire? How was he going to explain that to the people around here? He eyed the stave, still wrapped up in the cloak, resting against the wall at the far corner of the room.

“I feel strange.” Arthur eventually announced, a pinched expression on his face. “Am I poisoned?”

He started muttering to himself in a language Alfred didn’t understand, and he was momentarily afraid about what was going to happen. Using magic while drunk was probably an insanely bad idea, and Alfred could already see the inn burning down or being consumed by vines coming from the ground.

That, and he was also slightly stunned that Arthur was attempting to use magic without his stave. His hands were encompassed by an eerie green glow. He conjured magic up without his stave before, but not often, so it was still somewhat odd for Alfred to see.

Fortunately, the magic stuttered and died down. Arthur scowled, and tried again, but it seemed to backfire on him as a loud  _crack_ sounded in the room. Arthur hissed and waved one of his hands in the air rapidly, as if cooling it down. At his incredulous expression, Alfred couldn’t resist chuckling.

“It’s a form of poisoning, but you’ll be okay.” He assured the mage, when Arthur looked at him questioningly. “The wine you drank dulls your senses, makes you feel a bit foggy. You’ll be fine tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“You gotta sleep it off.” Alfred explained, allowing himself to smile at the other. He wondered if Arthur was going to remember any of this. Alfred had never been drunk enough to black out before, having a reasonable tolerance, but his twin suffered another fate.

“I don’t want to sleep.” Arthur eventually decided on saying, slurring on his words. Despite that, he still talked with good grammar and pronunciation, so Alfred decided that he wasn’t probably going to black out or vomit any second now. His memories might be hazy at best come morning. “’m not tired.”

“I agree, but perhaps you can at least try?” Alfred moved to sit down on one of the chairs by the desk, diagonal from the bed.

He watched as Arthur closed his eyes and leaned down until he was lying down on the bed, legs still dangling of it and feet still on the ground. It was silent for a while, and he wondered if the mage had fallen asleep. He would have to remove his boots and get him into the bed more properly if that were the case, but Alfred was content with watching the other for now.

Arthur’s chest was slowly rising and falling as he was apparently taking deep and steady breaths. He was kind of sprawled over the bed however, one arm stretched wide and the other tucked more to his side.

Fortunately the bed was a double, or else things would become very cosy. Arthur would have to be moved a little however, because now he was right in the middle. Alfred smiled at the figure, happiness fluttering in his chest at the sight of the other so seemingly at ease with Alfred in the room.

Abruptly Arthur raised his head, and then himself on his elbows, staring right at Alfred. Alfred nearly choked on his own spit as he was caught blatantly staring at the other, but Arthur didn’t seem very bothered.

“Did you mean what you said about the forest?” It felt oddly repetitive of when Arthur asked him to validate whether or not Alfred had missed him, but Alfred didn’t miss a beat.

“Yeah, of course. I don’t know what happened all those years ago, but I’m guessing there’s truth in it, right?” Arthur considered him for a moment, dropping down on his back again. His eyes stayed open however, staring at the ceiling.

“I wasn’t there, obviously. I know what Seamus told me – he was there during the rebellions, the curse… all of it.” Alfred sighed, remembering Arthur had told him that Seamus had been born during the Suits regency. He wouldn’t know why Seamus would lie to Arthur, so the logical assumption would be that the old stories held more truth in them than most people thought.

“That’s… It’s messed up, you know? That people were capable of doing that to innocent beings. I mean, if I’m to believe the tales, they went after each other and after the military, which I can kind of understand what with warmongering. But to just wipe out an entire forest full of magical beings… I’m glad some survived, even if they all wanted to kill me.”

He was aware that he was somewhat rambling, and that Arthur, drunk as he was, probably didn’t listen very well to him. He spoke truthfully though, mourning a little over the past. The faerie brothers had seemed very civil and friendly, fiercely protective over Arthur. It had been so obvious that they loved Arthur. And Arthur often spoke so fondly of other beings – of that flying bunny, of trolls and of other creatures. He wouldn’t do that, if they weren’t friendly to him. He had grown up with those creatures, they had, in a way, raised him.

Much like Alfred and others had heard horror tales about the forest and its inhabitants, Arthur must have grown up with horror tales about the humans in the Kingdoms. Alfred mourned for Arthur then, for how terrified he must be of where he was right now, but how he sucked it up because he felt duty bound to help his friend. It warmed Alfred as well – to think that Arthur thought so much of him, that he would put aside his fears to help him.

“I’m  glad you’re here.” He confessed silently, with a small smile.

At the words, he heard Arthur take a deep, slightly stuttering breath, as if he were a bit nervous or afraid. At least it meant that he had heard Alfred. He watched as Arthur frowned at the ceiling, mouth opening and closing as he was apparently choosing words to say.

“Why do you have to be King?”

“I have the mark.” Alfred helpfully replied, but he wasn’t sure if it had been a question for him to answer. Arthur hummed anyway, acknowledging him. He was still frowning at the ceiling.

“I wish you didn’t have it.”

Alfred found that he could agree – sometimes, having the mark really sucked. For example, when he was attacked in his home. He kept any smart comments to himself though. Arthur sounded as if he were going to continue speaking with that sentence, so Alfred gave him time to do so. He watched the other like a hawk, watched Arthur frown as he chose words.

“I want to… take you back to the forest with me. I can keep you safe there. I don’t want to leave you here.”

That sounded oddly intimate, coming from a person such as Arthur. It had Alfred’s heart pounding in his chest, too.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it, if it wasn’t something that Arthur was only supposed to think and not say. He chose his reply carefully, knowing that he couldn’t blame words on the wine next morning.

“You could come with me, instead.” He suggested, watching as Arthur slowly sat up at his reply, blinking at him a bit blearily. “I could show you all those things we talked about. You could learn to ride horses, to swim. You could teach others – you could teach my brother about magic.”

“At what cost?” Arthur replied, voice a bit small. “Will they restraint me? Take my stave from me? Imprison me?”

“I won’t let them, Arthur. I wouldn’t let anyone do that to you.”

Another silence followed, one which Alfred was nervously counting by the second.

“Do you remember, that moment in the river?” Arthur asked after thirty-two seconds. “I touched- you kissed? Kissed me.”

His eyes were still on Alfred, intensely so, and Alfred was kind of amazed by how not-embarrassed Arthur seemed at the moment. He felt his own cheeks flush at the memory.

“Kind of hard to forget.”

Judging by the slight frown on Arthur’s face, that was the wrong thing to say, but Alfred didn’t get a chance to correct himself. He supposed it sounded rather blunt.

“Was it… an effect of the mark?”

Alfred wondered what Arthur meant. Was he asking whether or not Alfred had only kissed him because of whatever magic transpired the moment his mark was being touched?  Arthur didn’t explain himself, looking at him expectantly.

He was mature enough to admit that his infatuation with the mage had taken roots before that moment. He was also able to admit that he might have never made such a bold move without the mark’s magic influencing him.

 “I know I wouldn’t have done it without its influence.” Arthur’s expression didn’t change, not yet. “I wanted to do it, though.”

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Alfred wasn’t an idiot – he had been seeing the way Arthur had looked at him ever since they reunited. He saw how Arthur’s eyes had turned from indifferent, to curious, to fond in the span of thirty days.

He doubted Arthur was actually invested enough to  _want_ something such as a relationship, but he felt he could correctly assume that Arthur wanted  _something_.

“I had never done that before.” Arthur admitted, and Alfred had fortunately already figured that out ages ago, back when the moment actually transpired. It was logical, unless Arthur got freaky with some magical being in the forest (which,  _gross_ ).

“You’ve done it before, though.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Alfred nodded, thinking back about past crushes and fleeting relationships, stolen kisses and touches in stables. “Is it always so fleeting?”

Alfred held his breath for a moment, trying to calm his heart down. It felt as if it were beating out of his chest. He was almost expecting Arthur to ask him to come over and to kiss him again. And even though the idea was a bit absurd, and he wouldn’t because Arthur was drunk… he still wanted to, so badly.

It hadn’t been a big moment, and the kiss had been barely worthy of being called a kiss, but Alfred remembered the press of Arthur’s lips against his own, and wanted nothing more than to experience it again.

“No, I guess not.” At his reply, Arthur bit his lips, and Alfred hated how his eyes zoomed onto the motion immediately. “Do you…”

It felt really stupid to ask, so he let the words die in his throat. Instead, he kicked of his boots and stood up, approaching the mage. Arthur eyed him warily, but allowed Alfred to gently untie his own boots.

When they fell to the ground with a thud, the mage dragged himself back further onto the bed. He held Alfred’s gaze, and Alfred found he had trouble with swallowing with the intensity behind it, his arms itching slightly. The faint red colour dusting the mage’s cheeks forced Alfred to stop his current train of thought.

Without touching the other, Alfred slid onto the bed as well. He laid down sideways , facing the mage. Arthur was watching him with his brows furrowed. Those green eyes were stuck on his face, however, regarding him curiously. Alfred felt immensely scrutinized, and had to refrain from hiding his face or wiping at it.

Instead he settled in a little more comfortably, grabbing one of the blankets to throw it over their lower bodies. They weren’t touching, but they were close, closer than they had ever been before, even when Alfred wanted to steal a bit of Arthur’s warmth on cold nights. In the faint light provided by the oil lamp on a table, he could see the tiny scars on Arthur’s left temple and jaw. Other than that, his skin was as flawless and marble-white as Alfred remembered it, aside from the slightly red flush on his cheeks.

And even though he appeared sleepy and tipsy, Arthur’s eyes were as fiery as when Alfred had first met him. Even in the dark, they glimmered like emeralds. Alfred held their gaze with his own eyes.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, not sure if he was referring to their closeness.

He held his breath in surprise as Arthur scooted closer effortlessly. He folded an arm between their chest and then pressed his body against Alfred’s own, lightly. He kept still as Arthur softly bumped their knees together, before bowing his head forward slightly so that his forehead rested against Alfred’s chest.

He was  _just_ below his mark, too, Alfred realized with a hitch of his breath. The clothing would serve as a barrier, so that no strange shenanigans would take place. The position still made him  _want_ , though. Not the heated kind either. It was more of a… domestic feeling. He wanted Arthur to trust him like this, to fall asleep with him pressed close.

He tilted his head slightly so that Arthur’s hair tickled his chin, and tried to steady his breathing as Arthur eventually stopped fidgeting. His hair smelled of rain and something Alfred had come to associate with either the forest or magic (and the two were so closely entwined in Alfred’s head now, so did it matter?).

Out of reflex, he gently swung the arm that wasn’t pillowed underneath his own head around Arthur’s waist. The mage immediately tensed, and Alfred internally cursed, raising it again to move it away. He stopped when Arthur shook his head against his chest.

Slowly, not wanting Arthur to feel trapped, he lowered his arm again to rest against the other. He didn’t curl it against Arthur’s back, even though he desperately wanted to. This wasn’t cuddling, he reminded himself, this was something else, even if he couldn’t name it.

“Is this okay?” Alfred whispered the same question as earlier. Arthur was still tense underneath his arm, but he nodded.

“I am not used to other people’s touches.” Arthur replied quietly, voice a bit muffled by Alfred’s shirt. The way he said it sounded almost pained, and for a moment Alfred wondered whether that was because he actually wanted to put more space between them, or if Arthur actually wanted to be touched.

Alfred remembered how starved for human interaction (aside from Arthur) he had been after his time in the forest. He didn’t crave cuddling or whatever, but he remembered he basked in other people’s attention and their occasional touches.

He couldn’t imagine going without human interaction and touches for as long as the fifteen years Arthur had been in the forest. He had his faerie brothers, but still… again, he had to resist curling his arm to pull Arthur closer to him.

He did allow himself to bow his head a little further (also to make him more comfortable), slightly pushing his nose into the other man’s hair. If Arthur noticed and was bothered by it, he didn’t show it.

 “I won’t be able to…  It will take me a while.”

Alfred wanted to ask what he meant by that. Did it mean he wanted to touch Alfred more, did it mean he wanted more in general? Did it mean that he was coming along? Thoughts raced in his head, and hope flickered brighter than ever in Alfred’s chest.

Arthur claiming he wanted to take him back to the forest, to keep him safe, that sounded a lot like a confession. Arthur keeping close to him constantly these two days, sitting and lying closer to him than he usually did back in the forest, despite having enough room. The looks he knew he received when he had been training, the fondness in Arthur’s eyes as Alfred joked around with the fairy tale book.

Arthur was going to stay, wasn’t he?

The prospect of the mage staying raised a different question though. Was it because Arthur reciprocated his feelings? Did Arthur even know what he was feeling, was he able to distinguish feeling from feeling? He  _had_ to know the difference between friends and something more, right? Arthur had friends, albeit not human ones, but he  _had_ to know the difference.

He realized he hadn’t responded to Arthur, quite some seconds, maybe even minutes having passed. The mage underneath him wasn’t as tense as earlier, and Alfred felt him breathing steadily. Alfred resisted the urge to wake the mage up to continue their conversation, but he was aware that it would be better continued in the morning.


End file.
